(We are eating IKEA meatballs for supper)
J: Can I have more Timbits? (spears a meatball) Mmmmmm, good Timbits!
Me: Ugh, worst Timbits EVER. Beef Timbits are disgusting.
J: What?! They're delicious! These are Timbits, and they're great.
Me: Ewww.
A: YOU'RE a Timbit, Mom.
Me: Oh, really? How am I a Timbit?
A: Weeeelllll .... you make me happy?
Me: Uh huh, go on.
A: Aaaaand .... you're sweet?
Me: Okay ....
A: And you look nice!
Me: All right, then.
Dad: Dodged a bullet there, kid.
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