I sat at the kitchen table, admiring my handiwork. Drew was eating his chocolate chip cookie, albeit slowly, but when I pretended to glance out the window he furtively dunked it in his milk. I hid a smile.
After a solid minute of silent cookie-munching (and hopefully lulling Drew into a relaxed, fairly talkative state), “So, the cookies good?” I asked genially.
He shrugged. Again. I began to wonder if he was purposefully trying to piss me off. Probably. I hid my amusement, keeping a straight face as I added, “You know, that is kind of insulting. Everyone loves my cookies. The least you could do is say thanks.”
“Thanks,” he said shortly, but I detected a small spark in his eyes. Yes, he was trying to annoy me.
He was going to fail. I gave him the largest, flashiest grin I could muster, “Any time! Shall we get some studying done then?”
I led him back upstairs, and was suddenly rewarded for my cookie trick. “Um… if your attic is pink… then what color is left?” He asked hesitantly. I smiled.