Ketchup ketchup ketchup ketchup KETCHUP KETCHUP KETCHUP.
I heard you. Please stop asking.
KETCHUP KETCHUP KETCHUP KETCHUP. fifty hundred times.
If you ask again, I am throwing the ketchup in the bin.
It slams into the bin.
It’s official, I am my mother. Of course, I am also the fucking sap who pulled it out of the bin five minutes later, washed it off, and gave this child ketchup. Because I’m apparently either fuelled by crazy rage or a total sap. Today, anyway.