April 30, 2003

Today is the day to make a face at a crabby little kid.

43

Well, one good thing about having a housewife for a sister and sharing your pot with her is that she makes the best munchies around. Meredith and George were enjoying some pasta salad along with string cheese (okay, that wasn't exactly made by her, but it was one of the perks of sharing a refrigerator with children.)

Meredith got up from the table and clawed hte tinfoil off a pan of brownies.

"Wait, isn't that for Payton's field trip?"

George couldn't believe he just said that.

Meredith rolled her eyes and made a 'pssh' sound as she waved her hand through the air. George promptly forgot about the field trip as he helped himself to one of her brownies, one of the kind that makes you realize you'd rather be fat than give up this kind of food and be thin.

"Oh yeah, so, Mere, about the novel?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you? Why did you?"

"I told you. I needed some quiet."

"That's it?"

"George, I was lucky that a story came to mind. But if one hadn't, I literally would just be up there, typing away jibberish, pretending I was writing a novel."

"But you are writing something."

"George, writing isn't that hard. I'm sure I could never write as much as you but it's not like you need special training to do it."

"Hmm."

George had to hand it to Meredith. He could churn out literature on demand without thinking of it, but she was doing it and she wasn't even a writer. Just for the excuse of some peace and quiet.

"So, think of all the other things that you could have done just for some peace and quiet."

"I could have accidentally become a pilot!"

"Or the President!"

"Hee hee hee. Hey? Do you want some Count Chocula?"

George felt good getting along with his sister. It was profoundly strange, but good.