Morning Litany

“There’s nothing in this house to eat. When are you going to buy food?!”
“Tomorrow after work.”
“If you don’t have money for lunch will you at least find me something,” Cate asks through a mouthful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.
I display three varieties of Nature Valley granola bars.
“I’m sick of those.”
“Almonds?”
She nods and I hand her a fat pack of raw almonds, which she tucks into her backpack.
“Carrot sticks and hummus? Pita?” I take down a storage container.
“No, Mom. It gets all gross before lunchtime.”
“A can of Chef Boyardee? Look, it has a pop top.”
“I can’t take stuff like that because then I have to stand in line for the microwave and it takes up my whole lunch period.”
I look at the large bowl of Empire apples on the table. Cate rolls her eyes.
“I know.” I take a large orange from the refrigerator.
“You don’t have any money?”
“Cate, take this, will you?
“Eh, I won’t eat it. I hate to peel oranges.”
“Listen,” I say, “when you’re in college I promise you can always come over for a bowl of cereal.”