Is it a given that one never remembers one's own tantrums because they occur at such a young age? Then again, perhaps that screaming fight with my boss (September 1999, I won't every forget that) counts as a tantrum. And I vividly remember one thing I screamed, so the entire department could hear me: "WHEN ARE YOU EVER GOING TO STAND UP AND DO WHAT'S RIGHT, JOURNALISTICALLY, AS OPPOSED TO WHAT YOU THINK IS MOST POLITICALLY EXPEDIENT FOR YOUR CAREER?" By the way, it's my grudge against that particular boss that earned my father's assessment of me as a "hater."

Anyway, I love tantrums. I know most people find it annoying when children throw fits, but a) they're not my children b) I understand the parents aren't at fault and c) it's such a breathtaking display of will.

Here's one I witnessed today, inches from my elbow: Mother wanted three-year-old to sit in a booster chair while eating breakfast; child wanted to consume breakfast while kneeling. Oh, the screams ("Don't wanna eat! Don't wanna eat!"), the stiffened legs fighting the booster. I felt bad for mom, but I just couldn't help rooting for the girl. It's hard to stand up to bigger, more powerful people. All I have is a voice, Auden once wrote, and that's all this 3-year-old had. A voice and incredible muscle control.

I kept working through it all. That's an advantage of two decades in a newsroom. Very loud, chaotic places. At least, they used to be.