(I'm sorry, Reader. It will come, I promise.)
So, instead, I shall tell you a funny story.
Yesterday I made Annie's mac 'n cheese for Cub for lunch. As I carefully pulled it out of the microwave, some of the (HOT BOILING) water sloshed out and splashed my shirt, soaking through to my stomach. As noodles flew everywhere and I let out a yelp of pain, Cubbie came running into the kitchen. He saw me, trying (unsuccessfully) to hold back tears as I frantically dug for ice cubes to hold against my stomach. He also saw a slew of noodles laying lifelessly on the kitchen tile floor. With a look of complete concern and desperation, he declared,
"Noodles fell DOWN!!"
Amidst my stifled sobs, I found myself also laughing, for my tender-hearted little boy was more concerned with the state of the wayward noodles than he was with his freshly-burned mother. Yes, honey, the noodles did fall down. And no, Mama's potential second-degree burn feels just delightful, thanks for asking.
(It wasn't really a second-degree burn. But it did hurt. Mac 'n cheese is brutal.)
Never a dull moment.
Have a lovely day.