No Soup for You

We're polluted with OPK again. It's not so bad, really, if we keep the kitchen windows closed. (God, the Waif's voice is sooooooooooo annoying. I just keep wanting to scream, "Shut the f* up!")

But anyway, the Howler arrived home yesterday, and today, we are, of course, overrun.

And, at lunchtime, it was clear that these chicklets think that my house is a restaurant, and I am the Head Waiter.

The Howler came in and asked if two of the four opk could have lunch with her--now, these two, I don't mind feeding so much. Their families reciprocate and nobody's grocery bills go up or down in the grand scheme of things. I'm about to say yes, when I realize that Waif and Dollie, are unaccounted for.

I ask. The Howler informs me that they're asking their parents, but haven't heard back yet.

Great. Just flippin' great. These are the children who spent 3 days at the end of May rooting through my cupboards and refridgerator. These are the children whose parents think that "reciprocate" means that you give-give-give and they take-take-take. They think that two birthday parties this year (one hot dog, one handful of chips, one juice box, a piece of cake) and two popsicles a year are "fair trade" for two dozen lunches, a half dozen suppers, unlimited snacks, and several s'mores.

Part of me feels like a heel--I'm pissed because I'm now obligated to feed these children--children I KNOW probably aren't going to get lunch today. But on the other hand, I know that feeding them is like feeding the stray dog in the neighborhood. It's going to come back to bite me in the ass. Literally.

I end up deciding that lunch will be "on me," but it will also be entirely MY choice. Chicken noodle soup, bologna sandwiches, crackers, and water. Period. Sandwiches can be with or without cheese, and choices of condiments are available.

Dollie says she doesn't like chicken noodle soup, or bologna sandwiches and promptly disappears. Fine. That's one less I'm required to feed. Quoth my Sweetie, "Beggars can't be choosers."

So, two cans of soup, and sandwich "orders" are fixed. Dollie shows back up in time to eat, and asks for some soup. Bitch that I am, I've already divided the soup. No soup for you. I tell her she can have a bologna sandwich, which she rejects. Even after I tell her it can be with cheese, and condiments of her choice. No, thank you.

Waif then asks for crackers--even though she has a plate--a PLATE--of Goldfish crackers in front of her.

Apparently, beggars CAN be choosers.