Why selling the kids to the gypsies ought to be an option

So there I was, sleeping away on Friday morning on the sofa bed.* I felt someone tapping on my back. I rolled over and there stood Norah, holding a section of the newspaper. She pointed at the line of wine bottles on the front (it was the food section) and asked, "Is this all poison?"** I said yes, and she walked away. I looked at the clock. It was 5.52 in the morning!

Yes, my child woke me up before 6 a. m. to ask me if something in the newspaper was a photograph of alcoholic beverages. If that doesn't constitute parent abuse, I don't know what does. We're just keeping our eyes out for a camp of gypsies to roll through Mesa. They'll take her off our hands!

* I snore a whole heck of a lot, and Krys can't sleep because of it. In a perfect world, we'd have two bedrooms, but as we don't, I sleep on the sofa bed. She offers to do it, but I'm the one who snores, so I should suffer!!!!

** After Norah's birthday, we had some beer left over, so I was drinking it at dinner. She asked what it was, and I told her it was poison and that adults can drink a little because they're older, but it wasn't good for kids. It was just a joke, but of course Norah ran with it. Hence the poison comment.