Did you eat it?
Yours? No. I ate mine though. It was prettttty tasty.
Yeah… Well, enjoy.
Where’d all yours go?
Mhm. Here’s a bowl for you.
You’re the best.
Um… I don’t know. Do we? You check the fridge, I’ll start scooping.
We do! This is great.
I have vanilla and chocolate chip cookie dough. Do you have a preference?
Chocolate chip cookie dough sounds awesome! Do we have any chocolate syrup?
Thanks, Britt. Here, I have an idea. How about ice cream?
Mm, what kind?
Mmm, yeah, that would be a good idea.
I have those sometimes.
Reading reports. Sorry, I got caught up. I can… probably stop for the night. My eyes are getting tired anyway.
Do you need your eyedrops?
It’s whatever. I’m just telling you, normal doesn’t exist.
If you say so.
No, I’m not normal here. My mother was a slave. In little ways, people remind me of that every day. I’m not ‘pure’ or whatever. I have weak blood in me. Some parents didn’t even want their kids associating with me because they weren’t sure I’d even remain a ‘master’ or not and didn’t want to confuse their kids when they got older.
I’m sorry. Growing up like that must’ve really sucked.