Every morning in a race against insanity I leap out of bed as soon as I hear the toddler stir. It’s not that I feel compelled to be there when he properly wakes. It’s just that I know that when his brain kicks in to being fully conscious the “my breakfast is ready!” chant will begin. I head to the kitchen as the fever pitch builds. Quick! Bowl, oats, milk, microwave, pureed fruit, more milk. The yells from the cot intensify. Yes it’s ready, for pete’s sake!
He emerges from bed and inhales a huge bowl in literally 1-2 minutes. Phew. Now we all breathe. Carry on.
Survival of the whingiest.
[photo credit to audreyjm529 on flickr]