The outdoor utopia ended when lunch was served, late to their reckoning, with Sis still wailing that she hadn't had a snack. The meal--baked chicken, rice, cherries, and grapes--was deemed unacceptable because there was no gravy. This lacuna required tears and anger from both children. My begrudging offers of soy sauce or ketchup did nothing to ameliorate the situation.
Now they are fighting because each is talking and copying the other. A litany of "stop copying me" is going back and forth, like the call and response at church.
It's going to be a long day.
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