He doesn’t look up from his book. He thrusts the plate towards me silently, expectantly. On it sit three pieces of grapefruit, expertly peeled, the rind and skin of each section pulled back, pulpy glistening ruby red fruit. 

“I ate so many pieces alreadyyyy!” I whine, my pouty lower lip having no effect as he looks quickly at the plate and without even looking at my face replies sternly “You ate two.”

“Yeah! But one of them was really big!” I say in my defence, almost shrill, slouchy shoulders and scrunchy nose. 

He eyes me for the first time without turning his head from the page, just a quick sideways glance that puts a stop to my fussing and before he goes back to reading I’ve lifted the juiciest piece to my mouth and he puts the plate back down. 

I know better than to pout. 

(For context click here.)