Michael: Can I have a jam sandwich after my porridge?
Me: OK.
Daniel: Me too.
Me: OK, do you want them cut or folded?
Both: Folded.
I produced the jam sandwiches (yes, yes, I know, for breakfast)…cut. It was an accident, I wasn’t concentrating.
Daniel and Michael: We wanted them folded.
Me: Are you sure?
Them: Yes.
Me: Well, it’s cut or nothing, I’m not going to throw those out just because they’re not folded. They taste the same, you know.
Them: Tears.
Me: What is it cut or nothing?
Michael: I asked for it folded.
Me: Sometimes in life you can’t have everything you want.
Michael: Sometimes in life you can. I want it FOLDED.
Me: It tastes the same.
Boys stomp into the kitchen and pull down all the fridge magnets from the fridge in protest. This is VERY annoying. I send them, still weeping, to sit on the stairs and think about their sins.
Me: Are you ready to say sorry?
Daniel: OK. Sorry.
Michael: NO. I WANTED IT FOLDED.
Daniel sits up to eat the cut sandwich and asks whether, if he eats it, he can have another one, folded. I reluctantly concede – going half way to reward him for his capitulation. Michael pauses his howling.
Michael: Can I have another jam sandwich folded, if I eat the cut one?
Me: Yes, ok.
Michael (unanswerably): Then why can’t I have the folded one first?
Me: Because you have to eat the cut one before you can get the folded one.
Michael: I have to eat two jam sandwiches to get the folded one?
Me (in some difficulty): Yes.
Michael: Why do I have to eat two jam sandwiches?
