Friday night Trish and I watched a movie in the living room, and we chowed down on M&Ms and other junk.
Saturday morning, Ella found the empty M&Ms bag on the living room floor, and was aghast.
“Mama! What are these?” and without waiting to find out what exactly they were, “I didn’t get any!”
On Saturday afternoon, Trish was correcting Ella. She sent her to her room and Ella, of course, didn’t want to go. So Ella came downstairs and into the kitchen, where Trish had just popped a Chips A’hoy.
Trish was trying to be stern. “Ella, I told you to go to your room.”
“What’s that, Mom?” Ella said, pointing, blatantly, to Trish’s filled cheek, redirecting the conversation as deftly as a politician. “Is that a cookie?”