Today was one of many times when my mother comes into the kitchen, (where I am so conveniently located right at that moment), and asks me, “Did you make orange juice for me?” She very well knows my answer, which is a no. I know it disappoints her, that her daughter hasn’t dutifully squeezed out a fresh glass of vitamin C. And it disappoints me too.
Hereby I state that the situation of whenever a child is asked to do something repeatedly on a daily or frequent basis, and the answer given by the child is always, or mostly the same (yes or no depending on the situation), with the parent being quite perceptibly exasperated is called The Orange Juice Complex.
('This much' OJ equates to the first third of my index finger. NOT ENOUGH DUDE.)
3 comments:
I like orange juice, but instead of the orange flavour, I like mango :)
Helloe plz call me man dony=t cha wanna go rollerblading and put ur bloody fone on plzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
asha
Hey! Thanks for dropping by my blog. And yeah, my posts are ridiculously long aren't they? And I see you're new to blogger as well. Have fun! And don't forget to visit once in a while. And bring your orange juice with you. Something to do while trawling through my infinite rambling.
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