Dinner WAS late...not by fifteen minutes, as I was corrected, but by a QUARTER OF AN HOUR. Steve had run an errand of mercy on the way home and then had the audacity to stop for coffee beans needed for the morning.
Roman heard the crinkling as Steve removed the caffeine eye opener and went hurtling out to the kitchen to skid to a stop in full on "FEED ME!" mode.
He was not listening to Steve's polite explanation and timetable of just how imminent the evening meal was as he watched the tiny old-fashioned printer receipt float toward the floor. Roman snatched it mid-air and it was gone down his throat.
Roman looked up, I think a bit surprised. He swallowed hard and tried to look like eating paper was what DAD had reduced him to. "Well?" his eyes said as Zsofia and Bailey joined the sit in.
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