Breakfast

Flying down the stairs, Michael saw his mother taking eggs out of the fridge. "Hey mom, what's for breakfast. Any chance it's french toast?"

When his mother turned to look at him he instantly knew he'd done something wrong. Stopping in his tracks he muttered, "Uh oh," as he quickly racked his brain. "I cleaned my room, well sort of, at least it's passable. I emptied the waste basket in the upstairs bathroom and my bedroom. Why is she so upset?" thought Michael.

Even though he knew it would be better if he figured it out himself, since he couldn't think of anything he decided to ask. "Something wrong?"

When she started staring daggers he knew he really screwed up. He began thinking harder, but still came up blank. Scratching his head, he asked, "Could you give me a hint?"

She shook her head and gave him an exasperated look. Finally she said, "Hungry?"

Since he was very hungry he almost answered 'yes' reflexively before realizing that 'hungry' was the clue. "Hungry is the clue. She's obviously not referring to me. So who else would be hungry that would make her mad at me?" though Michael.

Then it suddenly hit him. After begging for months and making zillions of promises to do all the work, he had forgotten to feed the rabbit. After being very diligent for the first two weeks he had started to become a bit lax in his responsibilities. This was already the fourth time he forgot to do something. It was obvious why she was so upset. Smacking his head, he said, "Sorry Mom, I'll go feed him right now. Hey, any chance of getting french toast?"

After seeing the look on her face he quickly said, "Kidding," and bolted up the stairs.