The LF had gotten grounded for inappropriate expression of low self-esteem last night (saying "I hate myself!" in that tone of voice is not going to make a bad situation any better) and was still feeling rotten this morning. I did the thing where I say a few things to him, and then stay in the area listening until he actually says what was really bothering him, and evidently there are bullies at school, including some 6th graders, who call him baloney and make fun of him.
"They're poop-heads!" I exclaimed. This was evidently the right note to strike; he cheered up and stopped calling himself a criminal.
Sis got home, and we went on a last-minute shopping jaunt to pick up things for the people on her list. I caught her up on stuff while the LF snoozed in the back seat. There were traffic problems. We've started classifying traffic jams by flavor of jam -- strawberry has things still running well, raspberry has some problems, marmalade is chunky, bitter, and sour, lemon's not that great either, and chokecherry and gooseberry are at or near no traffic flow whatsoever.
We got back too late for me to go and do a few things I'd thought about doing, and then marxdarx came home while I was in the shower.