The other morning when Fede left to take Sofia to school, Thomas seemed deeply offended at not having been invited to go along. There was a minute or two of screaming and posturing, and being a kind and loving father I gave him what he really needed - a wide berth to work through his tiny rage while I went to fix myself a coffee.
A minute later from the kitchen I suddenly noticed that the house was way too quiet, and I went to see what the little guy was up to. There he was, curled up in a comfy chair in the living room, with a couple of books, thumb in mouth, one hand in his hair, and a look of put-upon annoyance that didn't slip even when I went to grab the camera to preserve the moment. Once I started snapping, though, he decided that maybe he didn't rally hate everything after all. Poveraccio.
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