Five ACTUAL TEENAGERS.
For a WEEK.
Pray for me.
They are all still asleep. Have made a cistern of pancake batter and have warmed approximately one gallon of syrup. (not really. but a lot.) I also have a box and a half of veggie sausage ready to go. These kids are gonna be FULL, goddamnit.
I made two pounds of pasta with I don't even know how much roasted vegetables and feta and white beans and parm. Put it in a bowl the size of a wagon wheel. Served salad in a similarly sized bowl. They ate it ALL.
"I think I want to be a historian. Like for my job."
"Because that way when I get interviewed for documentaries the caption will say Me, comma, historian."
Probably the second thing. Damnit. Grocery store. STAT.
"Did you hear about Spiderman?"
"I know right? It's messed up."
"Guys. Stop saying bruh. It sounds stupid"
"I say what I want."
"You might as well be saying bra."
"Don't say bra. It's to embarrassing."
(Sung. To the tune of "Deep in the Heart of Texas.") "Bra bra bra bra, bra bra bra bra." 👏👏👏👏
"If Sony wants to mess up Spiderman, maybe Robert Downey Jr. Should just buy it."
"You know. With all of his . . ."
"You're thinking of Tony Stark. Please tell me you know he's not Tony Stark."
"Well yeah, but."
I took them out for burritos and we were served the hugest hunks of food I've ever seen. I ate a quarter of mine. The girls ate most of theirs, while the boys devoured theirs in about nine seconds.
Not twenty minutes later: "I'm hungry. Did we pack sandwiches?"