Sunday Morning

The Meal: Our new Sunday morning tradition - Yummy cinnamon French Toast made with Challah Bread from the bakery, topped with fresh strawberries, brown sugar and whipped cream. David and I take ours melted together with cheddar cheese and topped with homemade maple syrup. (I don’t cook like this for everyday breakfasts, so I have to talk it up when I do.)

The Conversation:
Me: Calvin, what are you doing?
Cal: I’m trying to drink the strawberry juice off my plate.
Me: If you tip the plate to drink the juice, your French toast will flip onto your face and get stuck and you will have a big blop of whipped cream on your nose and strawberries in your eyes.

We continue eating, Cal takes a few more bites of the French toast the way he’s supposed to, then decides to drink the strawberry juice off anyway. His plate goes up and up and up, he slurps, I’m waiting for the flip and blop that I warned him about, but he finishes, sets his plate down, then looks at me with a smile and SHAKES HIS HEAD as if to say, “Tut, tut.” I say, “What, it didn’t flip onto your face?” And his reply: “No, Mom. It didn’t even slip.”

I'm not sure if he was more disappointed in the French toast, for remaining in place, or me, for predicting incorrectly.

1 comment:

Angela said...

Is it bad that in all these little anecdotes with Calvin being a little bit ornery and too smart for his own good, I see YOU.
I think that adage, "you reap what you sow" is never fully manifest until you have children.
And my son wakes up every morning asking for ice cream for breakfast.