Charlotte (from downstairs where she is no doubt tormenting Zoë): Mommy! I want another cheese-stick please.
Me (while chilling on my bed doing absolutely nothing): Sorry honey, you’ll have to wait. I’m pooping.
Eta: In fairness to me and defense of my questionable and dishonest tactics to avoid parenting, I feel like crap today. Achy all over, stuffy, and deciding if I should believe science or my own (positive) anecdotal evidence and buy some Cold FX.