Breakfast

It took some coaxing to get Eleanor to cut up the pineapple I bought, because she thought it looked good sitting on the counter with the colors in our rug and hardwood floor. I cooked some bacon and hashbrowns then asked Eleanor, "Will you come cook the scrambled eggs? I would do it but I know you'll just make fun of me."

She said, "That's because you mix everything together right in the pan as it's cooking. It's weird."

I said, "I only did that once. I make them just like everyone else but I know you won't like something about them so you should just cook them."

We don't eat many meals together. Here is how it continued:
"Are you going to eat in the kitchen with us?"
"Would you like me to eat somewhere else?"
"Just tell me where you're going to eat."
"Would you like me to eat in the living room?"
"Why are you answering me with questions?"
"That's what Socrates would do."
"Maybe he just didn't know anything."