I suppose even as an adult I have days like that. Days when I'm just in a crabby mood, but at least I can try and do something to cheer myself up. Eat a bag of Cheetos in one sitting, play video games for hours, burn an effigy. . . the things that make you feel good.
Yesterday the little man probably would have burned an effigy of his parents if he knew how to use his opposable thumbs enough to light a match. He wouldn't lay down, he didn't want to be held, he wanted his pants off and was then cold. . . nothing would make him happy, he just spent the whole day making a moaning sound.
I've heard, and said, that being a baby must be great. Eat, sleep, poop, have someone take care of your every need. I'm changing my vote.
You wake up starving and have to wait for the large hairy creatures to get themselves up and feed you. These giants man handle you all day (think about changing a diaper and imagine someone the same size difference doing it to you). You don't speak the language, they don't know what you want. You have very little control over your own body.
Being a baby must suck.