Today was the worst day of Lydia’s life, worse than all the previous ten worst days, which, incidentally, were all in the month of December. For the past several months, to hear her tell it, each day has been worse than the last. And not only was today the worst day ever, I also ruined her life, for which she hates me.

How did I do that, you ask?

I didn’t make Rice Krispie treats.

She’s only ten. I pray nightly that this kind of thing isn’t as portentous as it seems, but I’m afraid. I’m very afraid.