kiya

Got a "this is exactly the kind of thing we're looking for but unfortunately we can't buy everything" rejection letter, which is sort of boo-yay and hey, now I know the sort of thing they're looking for.

AR has decided that Creedence Clearwater Revival, or at least "Down on the Corner", sounds like Fraggle Rock music. She is now five, which is quite exciting.

I have been shot by the Army! Pfizer. My arm hurts, I have a headache, and I would like to be poured into a bucket like Odo. I'm not quite sleepy, but I'm definitely in that kind of spaced-out drunkish or maybe on the really hype cold medicine state.

I think there was another thing or two but whatever.

So here's one.

I make a consistent breakfast: oatmeal and three sausages.

I made breakfast. I went to the bathroom.

While I was in the bathroom I discovered AR eating one of my sausages.

Me: Did you steal my sausage?

AR, between bites of sausage: No.

When I get out of the bathroom I find her reaching up to my bowl to steal another sausage. After some negotiation I cook two sausages, one for her, one to replace the stolen one, and try to go back to breakfast, at which point she demands that I peel an orang instead.

artan returned from the grocery store, providing a diversion after which she refused to consume both sausage and orange. I tried to convince her to eat her damn sausage.

AR: I don want it. You can have it, mama.

Me: I don't want your sausage! I made my own sausage!

artan: Stolen food is better.

He stole the sausage and took a bite.

AR: HEY!!

He gave her the sausage, at which point she rapidly started eating it.

artan: See? Stolen food is better.

Me: [losing my mind laughing]