“Mama, this oatmeal tastes just awful,” Patrick exclaimed. He banged his spoon on the table and plopped his chin on his fist.
Mama creased her brows behind her glasses. “Now don’t complain, son, and eat your breakfast like little Agnes over there. We don’t want to be late for mass. Uncle Collin will be annoyed.”
Agnes squirmed in her seat, mesmerized by the sight of her big brother eating his cereal. She could barely contain herself, but when Patrick took another mouthful and spit it out, she burst out laughing.
“This is dog food,” Patrick yelled, “and Agnes put Racer’s food in my bowl!”
Agnes hyperventilated. It was so funny, so creative, so cute that everyone had to appreciate her cleverness! But Mama and Patrick weren’t laughing. Patrick picked up his cereal bowl and threw it at her. The dog food and milk streamed down her church dress. Mama groaned.
“Agnes,” Mama said. “I’m disappointed in you. What would your father say?”
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