Michael: (with a wrinkled nose) Mama, what are you doing?
Me: I’m plucking my eyebrows.
Michael: No. No pluck your eyebrows.
Me: You don’t want me to pluck my eyebrows?
Michael: No. Go in the kitchen. You go cook in the kitchen.

Apparently, if I have time to pluck my eyebrows, I’m not spending enough time cooking.