Leo wasn’t usually this bad, but lately, he’d developed a "main character" complex. He wanted everything to be exclusive. Not just the snacks—though he’d already laid claim to the artisanal jerky Mom bought—but our time, the conversation, and even the scenery.
I hammered a stake into the dirt with a little more force than necessary. "Leo, we’re camping. With my mom. There is no juice sommelier. There is only lukewarm Gatorade and whatever Mom is currently burning on the portable stove." camp with mom and my annoying friend who wants exclusive
"The Great Outdoors: featuring Mom’s cooking and [Friend’s Name]’s constant demands. 🐜" Leo wasn’t usually this bad, but lately, he’d