I'm hungry. The kids just ate but I neglected to make something for myself. As usual.

I look in the fridge and grab a cucumber. Sliced cucumber with salt and vinegar. Yum. This has always been one of my favorite snacks.

(In case you are new to the brilliance of this snack, you slice a cucumber, put vinegar on it and put salt on it. Then you eat it.)

As I'm cutting the cucumber, the kids come over and ask what I'm making:

Actually, only Crappy Boy asks what I'm making. Crappy Baby reaches up and tries to get his fingers cut off with the knife.

I tell them what I'm making:

They immediately start complaining.

I start to walk away but the complaining follows me.

They don't want it! They don't like it!

I have a smug look on my face because I don't care.

I don't care because:

OH SNAP!

You see what I did there? I pulled the rug out from under their complaints.

Their whining has no meaning!

Score one for the mama!

Hold on...

Make that score two for the mama!