As some of you may know, my wife, Dominique, and I, had a son a couple of years ago. Recently, this son has begun throwing temper tantrums–throwing himself on the ground, flailing on his back, and screaming. However, and this is the gooey center of this Drumstick anecdote, our son is already smart enough to understand that the floor is essentially a sheet of vinyl on concrete, and thus, rather hard and potentially damaging. So it happens that our son, in the midst of throwing himself on the ground, will fall down, lay on his side, and then very gingerly, deliberately, and with careful consideration of F=ma, lay his head down on the floor. Once said head of said son is on said floor, he will proceed with his tantrum.
Of course, this measured approach to his tantrums in which he is fully cognizant of the dangers of smacking his head, lead me to believe his tantrums are not of any real substance at all, and are, as the layman might say, total bullshit.
UPDATE: El Matador went too far with his antics and actually smacked his head on the ground. This has not, as I would have hoped, discouraged him from throwing the aforementioned bullshit tantrums.