Not Exactly Breakfast at Tiffany’s

As anyone with more than one child will attest, it is hard finding that much-coveted one-on-one time; but when one child rises particularly early and the other two sleep in, an occasional breakfast with said early-riser happens.

However, breakfast conversation with a soon-to-be seven-year-old boy is an experience unto itself:

“Mom, your egg looks interesting.  And by ‘interesting’ I don’t mean I’d eat it or anything.  What I mean is that if I was trapped somewhere and my only choice was eating my own leg or an egg, I’d probably go with the egg.”

“Mom, did you hear that?  I think I figured out how to throw up in my mouth!”

“Oh, sorry, Mom.  That was probably a burp I should have done in the bathroom.” 

Quality time with my son . . . Though he challenges every aspect of decorum not to mention my own digestion, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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