Starvation

Today was Opal's school Valentine's party, so she had a snack in the afternoon, and they let her eat a piece of chocolate, and yet, when I picked her up, she said she was STARVING and why were we going to the LIBRARY anyway? "Because you wanted to get another Tiger Moth book and the recording of the next book in the Young Wizards series." "Oh. I guess. But I am yearning to eat my Valentine's candy."

At the library, she was no longer starving. She picked out some books, I picked out some books, and after several warnings she was happy to leave, but first, could she put on a puppet show? Why not? How about play with the puzzles? But she usually plays with the puzzles! Just one puzzle. Well, OK, she was just going to put this puzzle piece back then. What? She was putting the piece back! She just had to see where it fit first! She was trying it in the other place in case it fit there, too! How about the other puzzle, could she do that one? No puzzles? No puzzles AT ALL?

Why did I get that book, anyway? Oh, yes, she did say I should just get it, but that was before she remembered she ought to look at it first. She did look at it, and she didn't want it. She would look at it again, just to prove it. Oh, wait, did I want the book for something? To check it out? But she was reading it! OK, she would stop walking backwards, as long as she could read her book. She never gets time to read her book. Why do I keep HURRYING her so? And then, we arrive at the car, and poof! She's starving. She really will die of starvation before we get home, she knows she will. If she can't eat something, can she turn on her light? Just for a bit? So she can read her book? What are we having for dinner, anyway? It's not leftovers, is it, because she's not going to eat leftovers. And she's starving. How long are we going to wait here at this traffic light anyway? And why aren't we going to make pizza?

She is still alive. And at some point, after she finally falls asleep, I may find this all funny. She is still starving, she would like you to know. (Dinner was frozen pizza. She ate half of it, and a miniature package of Skittles, and read. Then, when I pointed out it was time to get ready for bed, she claimed to be starving again. I told her she could have bread or plain yogurt, or nothing at all if she didn't stop arguing and eat. She ate bread. Into the shape of the full moon, bitten into successive phases, except for the last bite which she tried to feed me. Little beast.)