I want you to be happy. I want that very much. But, my love, you can't always get what you want.
You want your friend to sit in your stroller with you. He doesn't want to. You can't force him. No amount of crying or screaming or pushing will change that. Other people won't always do what you want.
You want to watch another video. I've already let you watch too much. You want to watch Calliou. I've said no, and not just because I hate him with a unexplainable intensity. Sometimes people will say no to you, whether you want them to or not.
You want to add the sugar to the dry ingredients. The muffin recipe calls for the sugar to be added to the wet ingredients in the bowl in front of your brother. He wants to pour it in and mix it up. He wants what you want and only one of you will get it.
My dad used to sing that song to me and I hated it. What does it mean? Why can't I get everything I want?
I sing it to myself now as I talk to you. As I listen to your frantic pleas and cries for whatever it is that you want in that moment. I tell myself over your whining that wanting is part of growing up. And being a grown up is knowing that you won't always get it.
So I will listen to you and comfort you and get frustrated with you when you just won't stop. And I will tell myself that no matter how much I may want for you to stop wanting, I can't always get what I want.