Goldilocks LIVES!

Goldilocks lives, all right. But now she is a brunette boy of seventeen.

Goldilocks might need to plan a short vacation to re-visit The Bears. That's because Goldilocks is wearing out his welcome at the Mansion. He's been in and out most of the summer. But now, he has two modes of existence.

I have so much to do!
There's nothing to do!

This morning, he tried to persuade me to make him french toast. Which I've never made before in my life. But Goldilocks, the authority, explained that it's just bread dipped in milk and egg. Although he did not wish to make such a simple meal for himself. Did not, even, wish to drop the frozen kind into the toaster.

You do it for me.

You are perfectly capable. You're young. Why should I have to do something you can do for yourself?

Because you signed up for it. You're the mom.

They're in the freezer. The kind in sections like a piece of bread that you put in the toaster.

I HATE that kind! Why didn't you get the other kind?

The Pony put it in the cart. You know. When he has to go and do the shopping with me every week.

That's ridiculous. You should have made him get the right kind.

You're never happy. You are Goldilocks. Remember that sandwich I made you two days ago? I never do it right. That wasn't enough peanut butter. That was too much peanut butter.

Ha ha. But really. Next time, just put more than that one time, and less than the last time.

I know. It will be just right. Then there's the pillow you asked for. You said to get one the thickness of a couch pillow. So we did.

Actually, this new pillow is too thick. I've tried everything to flatten it, but I can't. But I'm trying to sleep on it.

See? Goldilocks. Your old pillow was too thin, and the new one is too thick.

Okay, I get it.

I did not inform Mr. Goldilocks that The Pony also galloped across The Devil's Playground to pick out a pillow to my specifications. What he doesn't know can't possibly make him any more dissatisfied.