Cranky Pants Poopy Diapers

Mad is flashing lightning bolts from my eyeballs, barfing roiling fogs of smoke from my belly.

I’m not angry, I’m mad.

Anger sounds too grown up. I’m not in rage, either. Rage sounds like somebody just wants to show off.

Mad is for a kid, ME right now, who wants to pout, have a temper tantrum, and not care about what anybody else wants or needs or feels. I don’t want to care about anybody but ME.

I stomp my foot. Hard. Then I stomp the other one. Yes! Stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp

This is fun.