MindSpinner

Meds are working, and I am, relatively speaking, chipper.

With all this renewed energy (having spent considerable time curled up in bed), I began to plan Christmas breakfast, which happens to be the Christmas meal I have with my kids. I told them they’d better plan to go to bed reasonably early, because they aren’t going to sleep in until 11:00 and then just scurry around to throw their things into bags to head out to their dad’s for three days. We are going to have Christmas breakfast at 9:00. (Fact is, they just got home from their dad’s house after lunch today and are at a Christmas Eve gathering tonight, a venture I blessed when incapacitated.)

Having established expectations, I asked Catapult Kid, “What would you like for Christmas breakfast?”

“Oh,” he said, “whatever you do, Mom, just don’t make pancakes.” I make good pancakes, real ones, just not very often. “And please, no bacon.” I thought of the bacon languishing in the fridge. “Don’t cook eggs or grits either.” I wasn’t actually going to go as far as to make the grits. “I ate all that stuff every morning for six months.” Confound the National Guard, they have sabotaged Christmas breakfast by feeding him every day what I work up to fixing only on the occasional Saturday morning for a treat.

Momentarily stymied, I asked, “Well, what would you like for Christmas breakfast that would be new and different?”

“Cereal.”