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honey.”
    â€œThanks, Mom.” Amy stared down at her cereal, and sighed. She hated oatmeal, but her mother insisted that it was a good breakfast, even though Amy had shown her several studies claiming that oatmeal had no more nutritional value than Pop Tarts.
    Amy’s dad pushed back his chair. “I have to run. We’ve got a big meeting this morning, down at the plant. Do you want a ride to school, Amy?”
    â€œDefinitely.” Amy grinned and took several mouthfuls of her oatmeal, just enough so that her mother wouldn’t feel hurt. She swallowed, hating the taste which always seemed slimy to her, and then she pushed back her chair.
    â€œThat’s all you’re going to eat?” Amy’s mother looked very worried.
    â€œI had enough, Mom. It’s a big bowl, and I’m not really that hungry.” Amy thought fast as she noticed her mother’s concern. “We’re having beef stew for lunch at school, and it’s my favorite. But thanks for making my breakfast. It was delicious.”
    â€œYou’re welcome, honey.” Amy’s mother looked pleased. “Do you want me to pick you up after school?”
    â€œNo, thanks.” Amy carried her bowl to the counter and washed it out before her mother could see that she hadn’t eaten very much. “I’ll catch a ride with one of the kids. And don’t worry, Mom . . . I’ll come straight home. I have to finish my homework before the basketball game tonight.”
    Amy watched while her dad kissed her mom good-bye. It was a ritual they went through every morning, and Amy thought it was sweet. Her father never left the house without giving her mother a hug and a kiss.
    â€œCome on, flower child . . . let’s go.” Amy’s dad picked up his briefcase and his keys and motioned to her. “You’d better put on full survival gear. It’s cold out there.”
    Amy nodded and took her parka out of the closet. She slipped it on, stuffed her shoes in her tote bag, and pulled on her bulky warm boots. Then she picked up her book bag and turned to smile at her parents. “I’m ready, Dad. Bye, Mom. See you after school.”
    Amy’s dad waited until they pulled out of the driveway, and then he turned to grin at her. “Dunkin’ Donuts?”
    â€œYes!” Amy grinned back. “I’ll run in if you park in front. What do you want?”
    â€œA cinnamon bun that’s full of carbohydrates and cholesterol.”
    Amy nodded. “I noticed Mom was reading a health magazine the other day. She’s got you on a diet again . . . right?”
    â€œRight. She gave me one piece of whole grain toast, no butter. And a two-egg-white omelette with chopped broccoli.”
    â€œShe must have heard that broccoli was a cancer preventative.” Amy grinned at him.
    â€œI guess so. I used to like broccoli, but we’ve been having it every day for the past week. Make sure that cinnamon bun’s dripping with gooey frosting, Amy. I wouldn’t want to go to work feeling deprived.”
    Amy laughed and hopped out when her dad pulled up to the Dunkin’ Donuts shop. The inside of the shop was steamy, and it smelled incredibly good.
    â€œHi, Amy.” Mrs. Beeseman, who was working behind the counter, gave Amy a smile. “Has your mother got your dad on another one of those health-food diets?”
    Amy nodded. “Broccoli, egg whites, and dry whole grain toast. He wants the usual, Mrs. Beeseman, and so do I.”
    Mrs. Beeseman flipped open a small pink cardboard box and put a cinnamon bun and a maple bar inside. Then she took the money Amy handed her, and gave back her change. “See you tomorrow morning?”
    â€œProbably.” Amy nodded. “Mom’s diets usually last for at least two weeks.”
    It was only a few blocks to the school, but Amy and her dad had finished their goodies by the time they pulled up in front. Amy gathered