The Big Boy Tiny Girl Making Their Own Breakfast Morning:
This morning my husband had to leave early for service on his car. I was doing my usual snoozing the phone alarm and rolling over, trying to figure out how many minutes more I had to sleep before I couldn’t put off getting up any longer when I hear clatter and chopping sounds in the kitchen.
My daughter had already come in to ask what was for breakfast and then did her usual, “no” to everything I suggested, so I told her to figure out something on her own. I got up to find my son and daughter getting their own breakfast ready. So far, my son had gotten carrots and chopped them rather finely. He said I needed to cook them.
I said we could microwave them, but I’m not sure how they’d like them. Next, my son explained, we needed mashed potatoes. What? I was so confused as to how breakfast was shaping up to be the sausages from the freezer, carrots and mashed potatoes…and then I saw the sausage box.
On the front was a picture of sausages beside some carrots and mashed potatoes. My son was recreating the entire breakfast on the package. I put the now microwaved carrots on their two plates, started warming up the sausages and then found some fingerling potatoes in the refrigerator from a recent dinner.
I suggested we could warm up the potatoes, but it wouldn’t be exactly “mashed” versions. Not a problem, my son said, he had an idea that involved a fork. After I’d heated the potatoes he did his best to mash them up. He was stymied by the skin on them, but when I suggested he call them, “smashed potatoes” that seemed to be acceptable.
Oh, and wait, what about an egg? He was getting out the frying pan, thinking scrambled eggs but we compromised on slicing up a hard boiled egg (conveniently featured on the box of the other type of sausage from the freezer.)
My son was so proud of his breakfast he wanted me to take a picture of it. His sister was not as thrilled, asking mid-way through the preparations if she could just have pasta instead.
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