Aint' fair, Momma!

I suppose that compared to being born in some horrible place like North Korea or Somalia instead of the United States ...

... or being diagnosed with a terminal illness when you've spent your life eating right and exercising ...

... my little whine is pathetic and I deserve to be slapped in the face with a wet fish until I cry.

But how is it that the summer working hours in my school district are M to Thu 7:30 to 5:30 with a half-hour lunch break, and I have just learned that the special gifted school in our city works from 8 to 4, M to Thu with an hour lunch break?

"Mama, Billy got more orange juice in his cup than me!"

"Shut up, you snot-nosed little cockroach, before I beat your backside! Your brother is recovering from scurvy, that's why."

[Cue sniffles and sobs.]