Today I was at my wonderful job working away while Connor (age 9…or 3, depending on his mood) was whining away about something. I asked him if I could have some cheese and crackers with that w(h)ine-as my mother often asked me when I was a whining child. (I whined a lot when I was younger.)
And then Connor walked over to me carrying a bag of cheez-Ritz cracker sandwiches and handed them to me. “Here you go,” he said. “Some cheese and crackers to go with your wine.”
It was great. Really great.