The Days of Our Lives

Jack was following me around my room last night as I cleaned up. I was putting folded laundry away and I wasn't paying attention to his poking through my drawers, as this is something that he does regularly. We call it "taking inventory."

[This phrase was coined by my father's mother when, as a small child, I would arrive at her house, shove by her in the doorway, and immediately begin inspecting all of her closets. What can I say, nosiness manifests itself strongly (and early) in our breed.]

Anyway, as Jack is usually looking through something, I didn't really pay that much attention. I heard a sharp gasp and I turned to see what was going on.

"WHAT is this!?" Jack asked, holding up a Cadbury Cream Egg, still it it's foil wrapper. (I had kept two for myself out of the MOUNTAIN of Easter candy he had received, and squirreled them away in my nightstand.)

"They're not yours, don't touch them." (My usual refrain.)

"WHOSE ARE THEY?" (His usual ignoring of my usual refrain.)

"Those are my candies from Easter." I told him, innocently.

"You've had them here this whole time?!?" he asked incredulously, gesturing to the drawer.

"Yes...Drama, I was saving them."

"I didn't know that!! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!" he screamed, and ran away.