(I’m a waitress taking the order of a little girl and her mother.)

Young Daughter: “I’ll get the mac ’n’ cheese. Extra cheesy!”

Mother: “No, you certainly will not. It’s your third day eating mac ‘n’ cheese, missy! You’re going to get chicken and broccoli.”

Young Daughter: “But, mommy! Eddie said that broccoli is bad for you!”

Mother: “Your brother most certainly did not!”

Young Daughter: “Yeah! The other day I saw him smoking his broccoli and when I asked if I could he looked at me and said that it’s very bad for little girls like me. His eyes were all red and everything!”

Mother: “When was this?!”

Young Daughter: “Yesterday! But his friend brought over more broccoli today. They’re weird.”

Me: *feeling very awkward* “Ma’am, I can get the check for you if you’d like to leave?”

Mother: “That’d be great. And could you box up an order of mac ’n’ cheese, please? Oh, and some really good smelling stuff? I figure they’ll have the munchies and I want to torture them.”