It was like this:
Me: What do you guys want to do about lunch? Hey, everybody?
Son #1: Mac-n-cheese.
Son #2: I don't know.
Daughter: THERE'S NOTHING IN THIS HOUSE TO EAT. OUR FRIDGE HAS NOTHING IN IT THAT I CAN EAT AND I'M HUNGRY.
Me: Okay. Let's take a look. Pretend you're at school and you don't want the hot lunch. What do you want? Bologna sandwich?
Daughter: I'm sick of bologna!
Me: {biting the inside of my cheek as I open the microwavable mac-n-cheese that was the last kind available on the grocery shelf.}
Daughter: {grunts}
Me: Peanut butter sandwich.
Daughter: I HATE THOSE.
Me: Tuna. Sandwich.
Daughter: I HATE TUNA!
Me: Okay, figure it out on your own.
Daughter: {storms upstairs.} {From upstairs} YOU GUYS SHOULD BE REALLY GLAD I DON'T HAVE MY PERIOD YET BECAUSE THEN I'D BE REALLY CRAZY.
10 minutes later. Boys are eating barbeque potato chips and dipping them in applesauce. The microwavable mac-n-cheese was less than satisfactory.
Daughter: Did you make my bologna sandwich?
Me: You said you're sick of bologna.
Daughter: WHAT! I NEVER SAID THAT! GOD, MOM! YOU NEVER LISTEN!
Me: Right. I'm not listening to this, that's for sure. {I dip a BBQ chip in applesauce.}