Empathy, Schmpathy

So I'm driving Suzanne to school this morning and my mood is not happy. I've had a fight with my sister (via e-mail, of course) and now, in the aftermath, I'm doing what people tend to do when it comes to internecine family warfare--i.e., imaging the conversation going differently, coming up with some devastating, lay-'er-flat line, wishing that just for ONCE we could communicate, just generally feeling aggrieved and hurt. My bad vibes are filling up the car. From the back seat, Suzanne says, "Mommy, did I do anything to make you sad?"

"No," I reply bitterly. "I have somebody else taking care of that for me, thanks."

A short silence.

"Mom, did you say that to be funny?"

"No, not really."

"Because it was."