While we were eating the muffins a little boy sitting nearby turned and addressed me:
"Next time can you bring in a cake - with glaze?"
I explained that my sister from Maine had visited recently and brought us 10 pounds frozen of blueberries which is I why I'd gone with blueberry muffins instead of cake, but he remained unimpressed.
In the car later yesterday afternoon N asked me when daddy would be getting old. Why do you want daddy to get old I asked.
"Because I want him to be dead."
"Oh. How come you want Daddy to die?"
"Because then he won't yell at me."
It's ironic because I too am guilty of yelling equally as often as Daddy, but as far as I know N isn't gunning for my eminent demise.
I tried to remind N that when Daddy wasn't yelling he was fun to have around, but N remained unimpressed.