Eat your own damn lunch.

Yesterday P and I were hanging out while G was napping. He’s got a bad cold and had to rest yesterday because he has to be back at work today. I made her lunch – Grilled Cheese sandwich and Chicken Alphabet Soup. She asked me to read House on Pooh Corner to her and we got through the first two stories. She did pretty well on her lunch. She ate most of the sandwich and took two spoonfuls of her soup. She has soup everyday at school so soup at home is more a novelty than anything else. She then wandered off to play in the playroom. She was working her cash register and doing something with her food toys. I told her that I was hungry too and I wanted to eat the rest of her soup. She thought that it was funny that I wanted to eat soup – I went into the kitchen and poured what was left of the soup in the pot into my cup. I went back to the living room and her lunch and finished what was in my cup. Then I asked her if I could finish hers too. She said no but didn’t come back into the room and frankly didn’t sound all that serious. Well, apparently she was – she was quite serious and got extremely mad and upset when she saw me putting away her empty plates. Now you know, if I hadn’t eaten it – that soup and those bread crusts would have sat there untouched until I threw them out. But since I got HUNGRY I brought it on myself. She totally lost it and couldn’t calm herself down afterwards. G had to get up out of bed to talk to her. I felt absolutely terrible. I felt glutinous and random and mean. I should have gotten off my butt and made my own damn lunch.

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