Lame Shlame

Hangin' with Dave at a coffee shop this morning and little guy calls...his tone was pure emergency.


Little dude:  "Mom, when are you guys coming home?  I need help!"

Me:  "In a little bit...what's up?"

Little dude:  "I need you to make this spaghetti meal for me."  (Note:  the spaghetti meal is a prepackaged Marie Callender's frozen dinner.)

Me:  "You can do it."  Gee....

Little dude:  "I don't know how!"

Me:  "Follow the directions on the box."  Duh....

Little dude:  "You're lame."  <click>


Me?  I'm the lame one?