Mean Rooster Soup

So we are sitting there peacefully eating dinner, and Bee decides that she doesn’t want to eat her chicken. No big surprise there. The next thing I know Zee snatches the chicken off her plate, she starts screaming like a banshee and she stabs him in the face with her fork. While everyone sat with their mouths hanging open in shock I jumped up and grabbed the hand Zee was using to cover his face and pulled it away  — I was really afraid that she had forked him in the eye — but no, there on his forehead was a nice neat little row of pindrops of blood. A fork mark. This is one girl you really don’t want to cross.