"Mikey, that's no way to talk to your mother," Zoe admonished.
"Whatever," said the young boy, rolling his eyes. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and black pajama bottoms (with a pattern of white skulls scattered about). "Stop calling me Mikey....that's like a kid's name. My name is Michael."
Zoe raised a brow. "Well, if you want to be called Michael, that's fine...but you are going to treat every member of this family with respect."
"Yeah, sure, fine," Mikey said. "That's just my nickname for her...she's fine with it."
"Well, she may be fine with it, but I'm not. And I don't want to hear it again."
Mikey grabbed a breakfast bar. "I'm going to meet up with my girlfriend," he said.
"You can't at least stay for breakfast with the family?"
"I just had dinner with you last night," Mikey insisted.
"I...had better go get dressed," Jon said. Or get a wishing stone.
