This afternoon I was sitting with my daughter as we tried to
cram for the library's summer reading programenjoy some literary stimulation. I was reading If You Give a Mouse a Cookie for the 3,722,185th time in my life, when the 13-year-old wandered in to ask me for somethinglisten and reminisce about his sweet preschool years.
We finished reading and closed the book. My son asked if I could fix him something to eat. Of course he did, because it had been a shocking TWELVE minutes since lunch, and how could an adolescent boy possibly be expected to survive that long without food?
asked him what was wrong with his own two legsgot up to graciously fix him something, I was inspired by the circumstances to flex my own literary muscle. Hence, this (with a sincere hat tip and apology to this).
click on the link to read the whole entry and the story... especially if you have ever lived with a teenage boy. :o)