Because Jase loves his sleep as much as I do, getting him up in the mornings is as close to impossible as fitting a square peg in a round hole. He whines. Sometimes he cries. Even with Dora blasting in the background, he tells me “I stay in bed aalll day Mama.” He tells me “Mama, I tiiiiiired.” I dress him in the bed. I put his shoes on… in the bed. I prop him up on a pillow to brush his hair, while his eyes are still closed. He brushes his teeth… with his eyes closed.
He drags his feet down the hall and hangs on to me in the kitchen while I fix him a cup of milk and get my things ready for work. In the process, I ask him what he wants for breakfast. I usually offer him toast, or at least a Pop-tart. But, 100% of the time, he wants a square. (Which isn’t a square at all. A square is a pecan spinwheel, and when asked what shape it is, he says it’s a circle. I don’t know why he calls it a square… but then again, he’s my kid.) Until today. At 7:00 he decides he wants something different. Why is 7:00 significant? We leave at 7.
“What do you want for breakfast this morning?”
“Do you want a square?”
“Do you want a honey bun?”
“Well, what do you want?”
“Are you sure? You never eat eggs.”
“Eggs, Mama. Eggs!”
So, at 7:02 I’m microwaving eggs. I scramble them up. I cool them off. We rush out the door. All the while, he’s yelling “My eggs Mama! My eggs!” I buckle him up and hand him his eggs, and start feeling a little happy because he finally wanted real food for breakfast.
Want to know how long his excitement for the eggs lasted?
We hadn’t even left the driveway… Might as well get used to that, right moms?
Happy Hump Day!