When you’re eight years-old and wearing flip-flops in November and cruising the ‘hood with your friends, and then you fall down in a mud puddle and run back to your friend’s house in search of warm running water and dry socks, happiness is…
…chicken nuggets and hot chocolate and macaroni and cheese.
Note: There is no school today, so there are extra children here. They won’t stay still, so I can’t accurately report how many, exactly.
As I made lunch today, Hannah’s friend Josie (”Charlotte” in last spring’s Big Theatrical Production) asked, in her best hopeless-and-hungry voice, “How long until the food is ready?”
I pretended to be very offended, dropped my jaw to show my extreme shock at her question, and said, “You’re so demanding!” Then, I smiled, and answered, “Eight minutes.”
Josie widened her eyes to express her dire need for food RIGHT NOW, and said, “Eight minutes!!?? Oh, CHEEEEEZNIPPLES!!!”
She spun herself around in a perfectly executed Dramatic Huff, and walked away.
(Then, I said, *snork*)