Of course, it might be -- if this was real -- 6 am and a moment in which everyone else is still temporarily asleep. The mother woke at 5:40 to craft a nice breakfast requiring actual stove usage: pancakes, bacon, good orange juice. All this might -- if this was real -- be on the table.
Teenager (of indeterminate gender and age, although let's veer below 16): "Why do you always expect me to be hungry when I wake up? That really annoys me."
Mother: "No worries. I'm hungry. I'll eat so there's time well spent."
Teenager: "THAT really annoys me too. You always put such a positive spin on everything. I hate that."
Mother (floundering about for a non-positive spin that doesn't escalate to "OH MY GOD YOU INGRATE"): "Ummm. . . pass the orange juice, please."
Remember it's just 6 am and our fictional heroine would be groggy, and perhaps at the mercy of a 55 lb blood hound puppy.
Teenager: "It's just crazy how someone can't walk down and have a simple bowl of cereal in silence instead of all this fuss. Who eats pancakes on a Monday morning?"
Tick, tock, tick, tock. Our fictional maternal unit might --if this was real -- be about 90 seconds away from taking the pancake griddle to a certain someone's head.
Teenager: "What? Now you made this huge ridiculous breakfast and you're also not talking to me?"
Mother: "What about the silence request?"
Teenager: "I never made that request. Now you're imagining things."
Teenager: "I never made that request. Now you're imagining things."
Mother: "Okay then."
Teenager: "Okay then?! What does THAT mean? Is that CODE for something?"
Teenager: "Okay then?! What does THAT mean? Is that CODE for something?"
Yes, my dear, it is. Code for: within a few short years, you'll be living somewhere else. And your mother will miss and worry about you. So she's putting maple syrup on the pancakes and skirting around your edges. With love --and mostly -- understanding.
