If you can’t distract ’em, join ’em
all things, it was a diced pepper salad that got me thinking.
It was a Tuesday night in early November. I was finishing my supper in relative tranquility when my pajama-clad six-year-old, Sara, crept into the kitchen and sidled up beside me.
“Ma,” she said, tugging at my elbow, “I’m huuungry.”
Hungry?! Sara had already consumed two slices of pizza, a snack bag, and an apple earlier in the evening. Suspicious, I said, “All right, love. Take a snack from the pantry.”
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