Early morning. Alice sits on a stool in the kitchen.
Me: You want toast?
I drop a slice of bread into the toaster. A minute later, it pops up. I grab it.
Me: What would you like on your toast?
She is looking around the room, humming to herself.
Me: Aliiiiice. What would you like on your toast?
Alice: Ummmm. Butter. And jam.
Me: Raspberry, apricot, or strawberry?
I butter her toast. I scoop a spoonful of strawberry jam from the jar and plop it on top.
Alice: WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I SAID JUST BUTTER!
Me: You didn't, actually. But OK.
I scrape as much of the jam from the toast as I can.
I place the plate in front of her. She isn't looking. She is humming. She is chatting with the dog.
She looks back to her toast.
Alice: DAD! I said butter aaaaand strawberry jam! Can't you listen?
I stare at her.
Alice: And, not toasted. Just bread.