I'LL GET YOU MY PRETTY!

I was sitting at the dinner table.

And I was crabby.

I watched Jeremy as he ate his salad (Pff...his SALAD!) and glowered at him.

He wasn't eating my tomato bruschetta.

He turned to Josh and said,

"Josh, I know it's different, but it's good!"

Josh was ignoring him, shoving the tomato-y bread in his mouth as fast as he could.

"Come on, Josh..."

I intervened.

"Jeremy...he isn't having a problem...YOU, on the other hand..."

Now, I was already crabby at Jeremy.

I don't know why, but I was (am).

It could have something to do with my lack of nap-ness today.

Or something.

Anyway, I bore a hole into Jeremy's forehead willing him to just try my bruschetta and not like it, just so I could keep being crabby.

Unfortunately, I seem to have suffered some memory loss, because I don't remember him eating it, but he must have because it's mostly gone, and the leftovers are tidily in the fridge.

Maybe I'll stick them in Jeremy's pillow.

I'm reminding myself of the Wicked Witch of the West:

"JUST TRY AND STAY OUT OF MY WAY! JUST TRY!"

I can see this problem being solved one of two ways: 1) with a conveniently situated bucket of water, or 2) with a conveniently situated pile of chocolate.

Maybe two piles of chocolate.

And some peanut butter.

UPDATE: And then Jeremy came home tonight after going to the temple, and he brought me a chocolate bar...

...and some Reese's pieces...