“Mom, can I call PlusOneFriend and see if he can play today? I’ve finished my Latin.”
Mom, distracted by writing a draft of a letter to the board of the hockey club about the atrocious behavior of the opposing team this weekend (but that’s another blog-post): “Sure …. ”
“Good, what’s his number”
“Oh … no … wait a minute. You can’t. In an hour, you’re going with Dad to pick up LightGirl from her sleepover then the two of you have to pick up that trashdump you call a playroom.”
heavy sigh, stomping … muttering
“I thought Martin Luther King Day was about freedom!”
parental grinning and smirking …
“No, Martin Luther King Day is about justice.”
“Well, I’m not going to have any justice if I’m locked up in the playroom all day!!!!” stomp stomp stomp