A few moments ago

Fiona was crying because Shrek was stuck in the DVD player. Delia was crying because Rob growled at her when she knocked over his Coke. Then Fiona was crying because she couldn't open the jelly. Then Delia was crying because she burned her hand on the stove.

I wonder if I could go eat lunch outside the house today.

(no subject)

I went downstairs and found Fiona about to eat her lunch, that she'd chosen and prepared for herself. She's melted chocolate chips in the microwave and spread them on the inside of a hamburger bun.

Every feeling revolts.

That did it. I'm fleeing to the May Day Cafe for my own lunch. Away from my offspring.