Upstairs putting away clothes in the boys’ room when Rusty walks in the back door from eating supper at the picnic table and yells: “Mom!”

“What?”

Rusty: “Mom?! Where are you?!”

Annoyed (because, seriously, our house is not that big and the back door literally butts into the upstairs steps; if he’d moved five feet to the left, he’d have been looking at me): “I’m up here, what do you need?”

Rusty: “Oh. Can we have Coke?”

“No.”

Rusty: “What?!”
“No!”

Rusty: “Ugh!” Stomps outside.

Ten seconds pass. Hutton walks in.
Hutton: “Mom?!”
“What?”
Hutton: “Mom?! Where are you?!”
“UPstairs!”
Hutton: “What?!”
“I’m UPSTAIRS!”
Hutton: “Oh. Um, can we have Coke?”
“Nope.”
Hutton: “Oh. OK.” Goes outside.
Ten seconds pass. Keaton walks in.
Keaton: “Mom?! (Pause) Where are you?!”
“UPSTAIRS!”
Keaton: “Gosh! Sorry! Why are you mad?! (Pause) Can we have Coke?”

Noooooooo!!!!

But I need a drink…

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