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.

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