Patrick came over today, and I coaxed him to go on a walk with me, before Nick got home from work.  I also made him jog a bit.  He didn’t like that so much.  Then, as I started to feel lovely cramps contracting my low innards, I also started to feel like I was returning to my throne in triumph as Supreme Bitchqueen of the Universe.  Nick came home and got on the computer right away.  He gave Patrick permission to use mine without letting me answer.  He didn’t hear me when I spoke to him, and then 5 minutes later asked me questions that would have already been answered if he had just bloody listened in the first place.  They were on the computers for at least an hour while I was ignored and had to find out ways to amuse myself because they both were carrying on conversations online, in the plural.  I made the last of the sugar cookies.  I mixed up pie crust.  I meticulously diced up hot dogs and cheddar cheese to just the right size.  I rolled out that pie crust.  I cut the crust into perfect sizes.  I rolled a chunk of hot dog and a chunk of cheddar into each perfect size.  I then arranged and baked these delectable treats, while thin-rolling (shhhh it’s a term) and thin-slicing the rest of the pie dough.

When the pigs in blanketsfoodzorz were done, I set them to cool and put the rest of the dough on the cookie sheet and sprinkled them with cinnamon sugar whereupon I baked them, as well.  Then I cut the boys loose.  Well, I would have if Nick had heard a damn thing I said.  Patrick, however, beelined it for the food and proceeded to hork it down.  After he made some good headway, I stopped him with discussions of flavor, instruction to NOT INHALE ALL OF THEM, SHARE WITH YOUR FRIENDS, and a cup of water.  He slowed down.  I got my computer back.  I am now writing on it.  Patrick went back for more in the kitchen.  He turned to ask Nick how many he’d had.  And here we come to a pet peeve of mine, exacerbated by the advent of taking up my crown and scepter shortly previous.  He didn’t want to know how many Nick had had.  He wanted to know if it was okay for him to eat all the rest.  He hid behind words, he hid his intentions, he tried to be crafty to get his way.  I do not tolerate it from chillens when I babysit, I only sometimes tolerate it in myself (it’s harder to catch when it’s me – weird), and hardly ever from anyone else in my life.  I will lose my bidness.  I will flip bidness.  I will chew the offender out, and very very occasionally force him or her to re-ask his/her question to practice being straightforward.  Patrick looked shell-shocked.  Nick laughed.  Guy On The Other Side Of The Internet said, “uh . . what just happened?”

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