Who says my son is an idiot? Huh?
I was madly rushing around, organising for a business planning seminar that I was attending (ironic, really that I was so unplanned for the seminar), whilst Grumpy Pants was attempting to extract from Godzilla what he wanted for breakfast.
Godzilla was effectively avoiding answering the question. Until he decided he was actually hungry and attempted to get what he wanted via tantruming.
That not working, he sidled up to Grumpy, who was reading the paper and eating his vegemite on toast, and said in his politest voice “Excuse me Daddy, can you get me breakky, please?”