* * *
And correction: MY kids are weird. Yes. Very weird. I love ‘em, but somedays, I just have to tilt my head in befuddlement and say, “bless your little face,” because I may have carried them, but Lord knows I have no control over the content of their squidgy little brains...
Take, for example, breakfast
Breakfast around here has many different forms. All of it lazy. And I’m not kidding — we’re talking top-of-the-line lazy. I’m a stay-at-home-mom (hold the applause — I’m the lazy kind. That kind that feels like they’re playing hookie and will never, ever manage to make up to my husband the lack of weight-pulling done on my part).
Anyhow... I tried to make them breakfast, tried to give them good habits. We always eat breakfast, religiously, as soon as we wake, and we never, ever skip. These are good things.
What they eat, though? That’s a whole other story.
Breakfast has taken many incarnations over the past 4+ years. Lately, it’s been a piece of bread (super-hearty-grainy brown bread; or raisin bread), and dry bowl of cereal (Foot Loops mixed with Cheerios for the 4 year old; Frosted Mini-Wheats for the 5 year old). Also, watered down juice.
Yes. This is what I serve. Or rather, what they request.
Because try as I might — I can do hoola-hoops and spin plates while swallowing fire on the stage that is my little kitchen — no matter how much attention I attempt to draw, I cannot get them to thank me for making pancakes, or oatmeal, or eggs and bacon, or even for putting milk on their blasted, desert-dry cereal.
I put my foot down, though, on school days. Then they have to eat (that super-duper-hearty-grain brown bread) toast, along with their dry cereal and juice. But they get to pick what they want on said toast. The 5 year old will blend seamlessly into society because he likes jam (we have four flavours he can choose from). My 4 year old free-spirit will always make waves. Some days he’s rather bland, asking for cream cheese. Sometimes cream cheese with jam.
Two days ago: relish. Before that? Mustard.
...
Ew.
Yes, he was serious. And yes, he ate it. Even asked for a cloth to clean up his epic mustard mustache.
And today? Oh. Today I made the toast, and the 4 year old began to
Because that’s clearly breakfast food, yes?
So tell me, parents — commiserate with me, please! — what’s the oddest thing your kidlets have asked for for breakfast?
I live in a small town with my favourite people: my husband, Mr Lannis, and our two boys, along with two cats and one hamster.
If you follow me on Twitter, you might witness my issues with linear thought, road rage, spending more money on food than books, and potty mouth. Be warned.
