Oh, just some granola.
That was an understatement. I was consuming the perfect morning nourishment. Or, at least, what I’ve considered the perfect nourishment for the last few months. It takes a lot to get out of bed early on these cold mornings, but this combination does it. I was eating homemade granola out of my specially made “ice cream bowl” from my sister-in-law Jurate. She made four such bowls, beautiful with their gorgeous colors and an initial on the bottom of it, one for each of us. And while they were designed for ice cream, I’ve found that it is the perfect size for my daily serving of granola. That granola in that bowl, with plain soy milk, has been the mainstay of my morning nourishment. (I must also have Assam tea made in one of the mugs I bought on Okracoke Island is 2007… no, I'm not at ALL about routines, why do you ask?)
Usually my morning tea and granola is consumed in the quiet of the early morning hours, when I have the house to myself for eating from “grown-up bowls” or for blogging or for yoga. But that morning I was eating a bit later than usual that morning, or perhaps I had just be forced to go for a second bowl. (you know how that is, right?) Regardless, I was caught.
GROW-WA? I WAN SOME GROW-WA NOW MAMA!
Um… okay, let me get you some granola, Jay-Jay.
I knew what he really wanted—one of those bowls—but I reached instead for one of his regular plastic bowls. He saw what I was up to, though.
NO, MAMA. WANT GROW-WA IN DAT BOWL.
He pointed up to the high shelf where the other three bowls sit.
Are you sure, Jameson? These bowls are very fragile and very easy to break. You will have to be very, very careful if you use one of Aunt Jurate’s bowls.
I TAN BE DAREFUL. I WANT GROW-WA IN DAT BOWL, MAMA.
I pour the granola and the milk in his special “J” bowl from his Aunt.
Okay, here it is… be VERY careful with Aunt Jurate’s bowl, okay?
OKAY. I BE DAREFUL WITH AUNT JURATE BOWL.
And so breakfast continued. I was content with my granola in my perfect little bowl, and so was he. Even though I was glancing sideways at him out of the corner of my eye, watching for that bowl to get too close to the side of the table. Call me crazy, but I’ve swept under this table to know this kid’s eating habits.
Fast forward 10 minutes, when Stefan enters the kitchen. Alex has already settled in for some cheerios, since my granola has NUTS and he has decided that he currently doesn’t like NUTS.
“Hey, who wants me to cut up a mango?” Stefan asked, helping me in my quest to get the kids eating more fruit at breakfast.
I do, I started to say, when Jameson stood up on his chair and loudly proclaimed,
THAT IS AUNT JURATE’S MANGO! YOU HAVE TO BE DAREFUL WITH IT!
(Addendum: sorry, Jurate, but we ate your mango! If it is any consolation, it was really good.)
(Picture by Stefan)
No comments:
Post a Comment