Ruthless Chef Lennon

I walked into the kitchen innocently enough, but you wouldn't have thought that by the way Lennon shot me that accusatory glance. He was going through the pantry and had found my stash of disposable plates for lazy nights and kid parties. "These aren't yours Mommy. They're mine. You just thought they were yours, but they're actually mine. I need them for my kitchen and my restaurant, so I'm taking them. They're not your plates." "Fine. Whatever." I blurted out. What exactly had just happened here? What am I going to do in another couple of years when I am completely unnecessary to him? I walked out feeling slightly confused, but happy that he was entertaining himself. Ahh, motherhood.