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As I caught them digging four-day old crackers out of the garbage.

Me: “Don’t eat those, they are garbage.”
Tobias: “But we LIKE garbage.”
Caleb: “Yeah, and I like these crackers with the little sprinkles.”
Me: “Those crackers have ants on them.”
Tobias: “But we LIKE ants.”
Caleb: “Yeah, ants are our FAVORITE.”

I later found them hoarding the garbage ant crackers in their bedside table.

Eating lunch, minding my own business, reading the New Yorker, mostly ignoring everyone around me.

To my right, two men:
Man A: “Our core value prop bla bla bla”
Man B: “bla bla in regards to the market for commercialization of cloud computing bla bla bla”

To my left, two women:
Woman A: “I LOVE grilled cheese! It is, like, totally my favorite food.”
Woman B: “Totally.”

And many more banalities I can’t recall. You get the gist.

On the upside, my vegetarian plate from the “Masala” counter was good. Right up until I found a chunk of chicken in my daal.

Loading the kids in the car after a trip to Ikea, I offered to hold Caleb’s ice cream while he put on his seat belt.

Tobias: “Caleb, mom licked your ice cream!”
Me: “No I didn’t!”
Tobias: “Yes you did. I saw you do it.”

Little rat.

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