This wasn’t my first protest, so I sort of knew what to expect:
The protesters in my house often use mental warfare to slowly wear me down until I’m forced to meet their demands as photographed above sometime last year.
And tonight’s dinner hour protesters were nothing if not persistent.
They never strayed from their course, feet marching the same beaten path while their voices chanted one verse over and over again.
They would be seen!
They would be heard!
They would not be ignored!
Steadfast in their one demand, we all knew that there could be but one outcome…
Breakfast for dinner.
This kid has a flare for the dramatic, but she probably should have just asked…
Cereal is my favorite lazy dinner.