A recent dinner conversation at 9 Park Lane:
Margot: "Mom, this soup smells really good. I think it is going to be delicious."
Me: "'Margot, thanks - that's very nice of you to say."
Margot: "I know. I'm keeping all of the rude comments inside my head."
Claire (not to be outdone): "Mom? I wanted to tell you that the biscuits are my favorite part of this dinner."
Me: "Thanks, Claire. I"m glad you like them."
Claire: "Well, actually they're the only thing that I do like. Everything else is pretty bad."
Claire was recently reviewing one of her favorite publications, the Drs. Foster & Smith catalog, searching for Christmas gifts for Ollie and Hugo. She shouted out the options ("Oh, look! A turkey leg rawhide bone! They would love that.") until she found the perfect choice.
Claire: "Hey, Margot. If we put our allowance together, we can get Ollie and Hugo a giant hickory smoked bone for Christmas!!
Margot: "What? I don't want to use my allowance for that!"
Claire: "Why not? They would love it."
Margot: "Because. I want to use it to buy things for myself."
Claire: "Well, Margot, then I guess you will never really know the meaning of Christmas."
