My bragging rights about never having been angry in front of Idina are about to be abolished.
One evening, our family went out to Dairy Queen for some ice cream. After we'd gotten our ice cream, I noticed that Idina wasn't eating her dessert. I asked her if she was alright. She sullenly looked away and refused to talk as we carried on our conversation.
During the ice cream time, my dad drove to a different part of the parking lot, where we'd been sitting, eating, and talking. "I think that girl has anorexia," he said, referring to the girl our car had been parked by. I assumed that was why he'd moved the car.
Idina sat up straight. "Why, was she skinny?" she asked, ice cream still untouched.
Finally coming unglued, I exclaimed, "I want to go home!"