Saharan

The children have a Pavlovian response to sitting in the car before any journey - they demand their water. And snacks, if I have any worth at all. I am to blame for this, of course, having dutifully plied my toddlers with sippy cups whenever we went somewhere, but I can't help thinking that at this point it's time to wean them off the automatic craving. Plus, I'm not thirsty, so I don't see why they should be. (The fact that their father probably would be, and my family tends towards the non-liquid-needing - I dunno, we're camels or succulents or something - does not yield my mercy, because I'm just mean that way.)

Yesterday we got into the car to pick B up from work, since the other car was getting an oil change.

The children, in unison: Where's my water? I want water!
Me: There is no water.
The children: [Suitably horrified by my maternal deficiencies.]
Me: We'll be there in five minutes and back in another five. You don't need water.
The children: [Still feeling water is necessary.]
Me: You'll survive. You're not going to die.
Mabel: My feelings are dying.
Me: Oh, really?
Mabel: Yes. Tomorrow my feelings will be dead.

The melodrama is strong with that one.