I had to admit, I’d never seen anyone eat ice cream with a gravy ladle before, but she seemed to do okay with it, even sharing with Paris, who had jumped up onto the sink.
“If you guys go out foraging, get seeds, okay? I can make a spreadsheet of all the food we have, and then, oh, do we have detergent? We’ll need to do laundry at some point. I don’t mind doing that.” She looked worried, but had drips of ice cream on her chin.
We were being bossed around by a teenaged girl. Okay, she had some good ideas, but still. But still. Both of us could go out together, and the house would be safe, so there was that. I had to believe that. There wasn’t a whole lot else to believe.