Sunday, October 6, 2013

Bed and Breakfast Boy

Graedon is an early riser, and an early breakfaster.  I, on the other hand, am more of a laid back riser.  That is, I prefer to be laid back, sleeping, and forget the rising part.  It takes me a good half hour to really wake up.  The half hour must include a shower and a cup of coffee.  

Just one cup.

Which I refill several times.

Anyway, one morning not too long ago, Graedy was in the kitchen waiting for me.  Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed he was.  Of course, the little man was hungry and proceeded to tell me so in great detail.

"Mom!  Mom!  Can you make me some eggs?"

"Moan."

"I'm really hungry.  I want some eggs."

"Graedon...just...I need...just wait...I'm going to have a bath and...ugh...I can make eggs after."

Frown.  "But, I'm really hungry."

"You can wait just 10 minutes.  I'll be done in *yawn* soon."

So, I took a bath.  In my stupor, I overlooked the clanging and the singing and the drawers slamming.  Once I was properly awake (though still uncaffeinated), I emerged from the bathroom to this:


Fried eggs.

My little guy had hauled out the cast iron frying pans (no easy feat when they weigh as much as you do), turned up the heat to maximum, and cracked those eggs into the heat.  Once I got over the adrenaline rush of finding my 5 year old cooking unsupervised, I was able to appreciate the huge step of independance he had displayed.

Sure, the eggs were black and crunchy in spots, but they sure did look good to Graedy.
And, his proud smile sure did look good to me.

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