Going back in time, I remember crying when I was probably two, three, four, five years old. I remember deciding I wanted something, like ice cream, or didn’t want something, like tuna-fish sandwiches. And once I decided, I’d cry and cry and whine and whine until I got what I wanted.
Trouble was, my parents didn’t give in, especially after I started crying and whining. So we’d enter a stalemate.
This is how I started crying, at least in my memory. I was, probably still am, a stubborn kid. That’s the first phase.
