I want to welcome back all of my readers. It was a nice break. I worked in the yard, played with the kids, and, yes, I did watch a little basketball. And with end-of-year tests for both my kids coming up, I’ve decided to cut back to once a week. I’ll be posting on Tuesdays.
The order laying on the kitchen counter was brief: 2 eggs, 1 toste, 2 bakun. My eight-year old, my waiter and sous chef, had planned for a couple of days how we would celebrate my wife’s birthday. He’d decided we’d fix her a special breakfast. (My older son had decided we should sneak out to go card shopping for her the night before. In other words, none of us, me especially, knows what to get my wife for a present.)
But back to breakfast.
My younger son’s biggest concern was the place setting. He wanted to make it look good. “Daddy, can we go to Aunt Jeanne’s and get one of those towel holders for the table.”
“Towel holders?” I puzzled for a second. “You mean napkin rings?”
“Yep, napkin rings.”
I chuckled and told him not to worry and showed him where we kept such items. He rolled the silverware in a paper towel and shoved the package through the ring. I made bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. When it was ready, he went upstairs and fetched his mom.
“Wow, looks delicious,” my wife said, laughing. “I thought I said two toast.”
“Nope, one toast,” my son corrected her.
“Aw, I thought I said two of everything.”
But the little guy was sure of himself as my wife started chowing down. I made a second piece of toast while the boys looked for ketchup and hot sauce for the eggs. The boys then brought out the cards and wished their Mom a happy birthday.
Now, the toast was a minor thing (and I’m sure my wife did say two of everything), but I wondered how my son could have messed it up,
I wondered only until Monday.
My wife called me at the office late Monday morning. “Did you take the leftover curry for lunch?”
“Uh, yeah, we discussed it last night.”
“I changed it, though, don’t you remember? (Our eight-year old son) wanted it for lunch today. I wanted you to take something else.”
I recalled last night’s conversation. M wife was right. But with me hunched over my computer writing away, her words had not resonated in me.
At least my wife knows where our son gets it from.