Grumble, Kvetch & Whinge

And now for the whinydad's-eye view of the world:

On the one hand, to get one small ephemeral smile we are willing to type 146 letters (in order) into the iPhone so our preteen daughter can listen to Radio Disney when she is otherwise out of range.

In return, we can be stabbed by our daughter after she eats the dinner roll we were saving. (Obviously, this is not the breaking of bread that we beg our children to indulge us in.)