Twelve year-olds are so annoying. Sometimes I wonder how I am going to do this eight more years. Today we went to a restaurant because kids eat free. When she found out she had to order from the kids menu she asked about twenty times before we got a table if she could walk home. Then she refused to order anything and sat there pouting the entire time while the little sister asked incessantly if she would eat some of her fries. What about the rest of her sandwich? She decided she would order as soon as everyone else finished. I said no. Refused to get in the car, when we finally arrived home she went in first and locked us out of the house (luckily Maria still fits through the cat door), locked herself in the bathroom to take a nap and then woke up to scream at her sister. And by screaming, I mean SCREAMING.
I used to enjoy weekends.
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