Reporting the #RealThing
I pour my homemade, organic granola into a flowered bowl, top it with Greek yogurt, and then join my two 3-year-olds at the breakfast table. With organic banana-smeared cheeks, they ask me to sing a song while they eat. So we take turns, cycling through rounds of Ba Ba Black sheep, Mary Had a Little Lamb, and even Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. Once warmed up, my voice sounded like an angel and my children’s smiles were wide with peace and love.
#gratitude #imsoluckylookatme #werebeautifulinsideandout #breakfastbliss
Here’s the other version
The granola tasted like crap because it was homemade and I put in too much salt. After asking me to sing, the kids argued about which song, who would sing first. Their whining voices made up a toddler-song of parent-earworm-misery. When we finally settled into our eating-singing, someone dropped a spoon. Oh, I mean: SOMEONE DROPPED A SPOON!!! We rode the wave of the emergency spoon replacement, only to land on a demand for cold cereal. Each child had a full plate of banana, hot cereal and honey - HONEY THAT USUALLY KEEPS THEM EATING WHATEVER IS IN FRONT OF THEM. But no, cereal was needed! - and no amount of logic or honey would sway the toddler-songs. By the end of breakfast our collective tears brought a poignant crescendo to the final line, “It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.”
#roughtimes #breakfastisharderwithtwo "#nextimecereal #realthing