All Kinds of Problems at Eight A.M.
If there is one thing that I learned from having kids- it’s always have a backup plan, particularly when it comes to the refrigerator. It doesn’t matter how old they are, everything in there is assumed to be free game. You can put notes on Tupperware containers, like flags claiming territory and in the morning still be cleaned out.
Which is why I was staring at my open fridge, looking for something edible at eight in the morning. I had forgotten rule one.
“Hey pops!” It was my youngest Austin, home visiting from college.
“You eat all the pork?” My wife had cooked the best garlic-stuffed pork last night. It was gone now.
“Nah. That was James.”
“James is here too?” James was my oldest and happily married in Oregon.
“Yeah. What have you got to eat, I’m starving.”
“Me too, and there’s nothing in here at all. Good lord we’re going to have to go to the store. On the way, you can tell me why your brother is home.”
“That’s easy, Veronika kicked him out.”
“Shhh, no one is supposed to know yet.”