"Good," I said, "dinner is waiting for us in the crockpot."
"What is it?" he asked suspiciously.
"Beef stroganoff."
"I hate that!!! I'm not going to eat it! I'm going to throw it in the garbage!"
"Then you will find yourself in bed for the night without any dinner."
Deacon pauses. He's rethinking he's game plan.
"How about I cook myself my own healthy dinner?" he asks, sweetly.
"How about you try would I cooked? You've never even tried it. You don't know that you don't like it."
"Mom--"
"I don't want to hear another complaint."
"I'm not complaining."
"O.k."
"Remember before I was born when I lived with Jesus?"
"Yes?" I am shocked by this sudden change of topic.
"Well, I tried beef stroganoff then. I didn't like it."
