I went out to the kitchen to get myself a snack (something which I do at least hourly these days) and Adrienne (5) comes out to me and says "I'm hungry."
"What do you want?"
"A toaster strudel."
"Ok, you can make one." (Her father taught her how and she is very careful. We have these little wooden tongs for taking the bread out of the toaster so no one gets burned.)
"No, I want you to make it."
"Slave driver!"
"That's not a very nice thing to say."
"No, it's not. Do you know what it means?"
"No."
"It means you want me to do all the work while you sit on your butt."
"But, I'm tired."
I laugh, "So am I! You're just sitting watching TV. I'm making a baby!"
She smiles and says "Yeah." and leaves me to make her toaster strudel.
I just ate a mozzarella cheese stick and now I don't feel so good. I shoulda stuck with the dang grapefruit.
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