Fortunately, The Milk by Neil Gaiman begins something like this…
“No milk,” I said.
“No milk,” said my sister.
I watched my dad think about this. He looked like he was going to suggest that we have something for breakfast that you do not need milk for, like sausages, but then he looked like he remembered that, without milk, he couldn’t have his tea. He had his “no tea” face.
“You poor children,” he said. “I will walk down to the shop on the corner. I will get milk.”