‘You! You ate my Szechuan shrimp! I was saving it. I want it. I want it right now.’

A couple years ago that would have scared Jordan. But she’s getting older now, and more independent. Plus more of a smart-mouth.

‘Rachel, I took your stupid shrimp yesterday. And I threw it out.’

‘What! You threw out my Szechuan shrimp? You are always doing something with my leftovers.’

She shook her head slowly, pityingly. 'It was already a week old, duh. It was too old, duh. It would have made you barf up your kidneys, duh. Shrimp doesn’t exactly stay good forever, duh. And oh, by the way, did I mention, duh?’

'You should have asked me!’ I cried, in no mood to be reasonable.

'Okay, Rachel,’ Jordan said placidly. 'Should I have thrown out your rancid, bacteria-crawling, moldy leftovers like Mom asked me to, or should I have left them for you to eat so you’d end up having to get your stomach pumped?’

Well. When she put it that way. Boy, I hate when someone gets the better of me. But I could not think of a single really crushing comeback. So I said, 'I’ll let it go this time.’

Jordan rolled her eyes. 'Thank you, thank you, Queen Rachel. I’m so glad you’ll let me live.’