Overheard

I’ve decided to begin a new feature, mostly as a record for myself of these final days, about 180 give or take, that my teens will be living under the same roof. I mean, maybe they’ll both come back and live with me in their late twenties or something (Oh, I hope not!), however, barring any unforeseen adult-child-bounce-back syndrome, H and E may never again live together after H graduates this spring. Anyway, as I watch for language development in my HOH toddler, I will record some of the rare interactions between child 1 and child 2 (rare because child 2 doesn’t talk much and child 1 and child 2 have never been the greatest friends, and I really don’t know why. They are very different.)

Overheard this morning from the kitchen

E: Your breakfast stinks.

H: The tofu scrambler?

E: The spices or something.

H: The oregano?

E never answers, already providing about as much interaction as one can solicit from him in the morning hours.

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