Consider the look on my grandson's face.
Have you ever been in that same "thinking" place?...
That little bit haughty and naughty space?
I sure have, and when it happens, I can usually manage in my old age not to act those feelings out. Instead, I diffuse the impulse to just say yes to bad behavior by treasuring up a few rebellious thoughts unto myself in a (mostly) facetious way and trying to let off some steam. When that doesn't work, I move to threat level two, which involves sharing those thoughts with my husband––including but not limited to assuring him that I am going to to take up swearing, begin smoking stogies (or at least carry one around to gesticulate with), offer up various outrageous comments for public consumption, and the like. (I guess I should mention here that we both know I am teasing, but we also pretend not to know. It's kind of fun.) Threat level two generally does the trick for me (generating these childish promises of evil-doing tends to crack me up and restore me to what passes for sanity), but now and again I just decide to chuck all of my efforts at self-containment and clean up the mess afterwards.
I think this may run in the family.
But we're working on it.