“Mom, can I call PlusOneFriend and see if he can play today?  I’ve finished my Latin.”

Mom, distracted by writing a draft of a letter to the board of the hockey club about the atrocious behavior of the opposing team this weekend (but that’s another blog-post):  “Sure …. ”

“Good, what’s his number”

“Oh … no … wait a minute.  You can’t.  In an hour, you’re going with Dad to pick up LightGirl from her sleepover then the two of you have to pick up that trashdump you call a playroom.”

heavy sigh, stomping … muttering

“I thought Martin Luther King Day was about freedom!”

parental grinning and smirking …

“No, Martin Luther King Day is about justice.”

“Well, I’m not going to have any justice if I’m locked up in the playroom all day!!!!”  stomp stomp stomp