The "Off" Button

Today, one of my toddlers started throwing a fit because I wouldn't let her rip a book out of another kid's hands.  "That's not nice.  We don't take toys from friends."  As her fit blossomed into a glorious crescendo of irritating noise, I sighed.  I had two choices: feel angry and annoyed, or opt for anger's ugly cousin, sarcasm.  I went with the cousin.  "Do you come with an off button? Because, that'd be really nice right about now!"  She nodded.  I was intrigued.  "Well, do you have any idea where your off button is?"  She looked around: to the left, then to the right, and then downwards, noting the buttons on her shirt.  She pointed at her buttons.  "Oh.  That's where your off button is?  Well, can you press it?"  She pressed one of her buttons.  The fit ceased.  I laughed.  Thank you, my dear little one.  Thank you for using your "off" button.