She sizes up her two year-old play date, with a large blue-eyed stare,  cocks her head to one side, and tosses her wispy brown hair back behind her shoulder.  "When  {pausing for a sigh and another hair toss} are you going home?" she demands, with breathy exasperation. Why would you ask that honey?  I inquire, although I already sense where this is going. "Because…" she starts, with hands on hips.  "He's Booooooring!" Meet Hot Sauce, the youngest of my three children, a four year-old spitfire with so much spice, she'd make Atomic Fireballs seem mellow on your tongue. Hot Sauce … Continue reading →