I was cranky.
I hadn’t slept, I was overwhelmed and a cardboard cutout of the Princess that turned out to actually be the Princess just bombarded me with information that had nothing to do with my problem. Five minutes ago I was absolutely certain the year was 1984. I was so certain that if I had to write a check out to pay an outstanding balance I would have written “84” in the date line. Of course there aren’t many six year olds who have checking accounts, or those who pay their own bills via checking but that’s beside the point. The point was I wanted to know how the hell was it 2012, not be informed I perpetrated mass genocide on a race of half owl half men creatures.