What’s Mine Is (Not) Always Yours.
A conversation with Luca, four years old.
~ ~ ~
Luca: Mommy, where are those muffins you bought me?
Me: Hmm, I have no idea, baby. I’ll buy you more later.
Three Hours Later:
Luca: *holding up an empty muffin bag he found stashed under my bedside table* MOMMY. WHAT IS THIS? WHO ATE MY MUFFINS?
Me: *Frozen with fear* Ummm, I did baby, last night after you went to bed. I’m so sorry. I’ll go get you new ones.
Luca: That’s a very mean thing to do, mommy.
Me: Luca, we all live here, and our food is for all of us.
Luca: Then why did you get so mad at daddy for eating your enchiladas the other day?
~ ~ ~
Fucking kids, man.