"So, how's your day?" little kid asked after spending all of Saturday morning terrorizing the entire household. He asks this several times a day, every single day.
"Not so great." I answered.
"No, you s'posed to say 'good'," he insisted.
"It's not that good, little kid. Today is like every other day and that's a real bummer. You and your brother are fighting, your dad is at work, you're making a mess, no one will listen--I'm tired and frustrated and need a break. I'd like to be having a nice Saturday."
"Well, maybe one day wishes will come twue!" he offered cheerfully.
"Okay, thanks. I won't hold my breath, but maybe one day."
"No, I meant my wishes. I want a monster truck."