I stood in the corner of my kitchen while my father decided what to make for dinner. He told me all the options and I gave my opinions, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to them. Then he seemed to have made up his mind and reached for a skillet. I knew something wasn't right; I could feel a sense of impending doom mounting in the air. All my fears and misgivings were dead-on, because the next thing I knew dad was reaching into the fridge and pulling out a carton of eggs.
"Omelette for supper! Breakfast as dinner night!"
"Nooooo00000!" I screamed, hearkening back to Anakin Skywalker in Episode 3 and thereby making all living things shudder in sheer horror. But again, dad was deaf to my cries of despair. I racked my brain, trying to force myself to conceive of a way out of this situation that was worse than death.
Saved by the bell. Thank goodness.
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