Frittata Mayhem
Sean: What is this?
Me: It’s dinner.
Sean: This? Is dinner?
I glare at him through my narrowed eyes.
Me: Yes.
Sean: Ok. I require more of an explanation.
Me: It’s a frittata.
Sean: It looks like you screwed up an omelette.
Me: No. It’s a FRITTATA.
Sean takes a bite and chews slowly, swishing the eggs around in his mouth.
Sean: (long pause) You sure you didn’t just screw up an omelette…?
I just glare at him.
Sean: Ok, fine. It’s a good frittata. (another pause) Also–why are we eating eggs for dinner?
Me: Oh, just eat your messed up omelette and shut it.