Mother's day evening was a struggle in the Curmudgeon household, with much wailing and gnashing of teeth for no good reason. The final battle of the evening was precipitated by a crack I made after taking our garbage to the curb, which garbage had sat an extra week because the garbage truck came two hours earlier than usual last Monday and I missed it.
When Mrs. Curmdugeon asked how gathering the garbage it went, I said, within the eldest's Curmudgeon's hearing, "I should have called [Eldest] out; she likes baby animals; she could have seen some baby flies."
And yes, Eldest started looking for some shoes, and cried for nigh-on twenty minutes because she couldn't go outside and see the maggots.
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