Savannah loves muffins. And breads and pastries and biscuits, etc. The girl is a carb freak!
Fast forward to Saturday morning. I could.not.wake.up! At all. It was 8 something according to my blurry, squinted morning vision. Or maybe it was something, something then an 8. Who knows? All I do know is she was up, and perky, and in my face about making muffins.
We just made them the morning before.
In my head I was thinking no, not today. But I couldn’t even open my eyes, much less get any sounds to come out of my mouth. So I laid there. Eyes closed.
She went on. “Mom, come on. Let’s make muffins. Today we’ll do the blueberry ones.”
Silence. Darkness. In my head I’m still thinking no. And also if I lay still enough, maybe she will go away.
But she continued. “Mom, it’s time to get up. I think we should make muffins for breakfast. Let’s go…”
At this point I made some sort of noise that resembled a groan and meant “leave me alone for 15 more minutes pleeeeeese….”
She said, “GREAT! I’ll take that as a YES!” And bounded off towards the kitchen.
——————————————————————————–
Emery, on the other hand, is not my morning eater. It doesn’t seem to matter if I feed him when he wakes up or if I let him play for a while first. He will not finish whatever I set in front of him at the breakfast table.
Of course, you know what that means. Come 10 or 10:30, he’s hovering around the pantry like a lost puppy looking for his next meal.
Unfortunately for him, his mother is not a short order cook. If he doesn’t eat his breakfast, he can wait until lunch. (I know, you feel sorry for him, right?)
I wasn’t surprised on Monday when I heard him moving the step stool along the hardwood floor in the pantry, digging for something to eat. I went inside with him and asked, “Whatcha doing?”
“Can I haf one of ‘dese strawberry ‘fings?”
Rolling my eyes that I even have to have this conversation yet again, “ummm, you didn’t eat your breakfast, remember?”
“Yeah, but I’m hungry. I want a Nutrigrame Bar.”
“Emery, you know the rule son…”, and with that I began my “mom speech” about throwing food away and all the starving children around the world.
But he interrupted me by saying, “Mommy I ‘fink the answer yer serssing for is YES.”
