This morning C wanted to watch some tv before he ate breakfast. I jumped at that because I wanted a little more sleep. I propped him up in my bed, turned the TV on, selected a recording and went back to sleep. He loves a lot of shows on PBS so I record them that way he can watch them later. When he was ready to eat he woke me up. I was about to grab the cereal when he informed me he wanted french toast. I sighed and said ok. I am not a make a huge breakfast person and when I am hungry I don’t want to take the time required to make breakfast. We are a cereal and oatmeal family. Quick and easy. I started to grab the eggs when he said, “No! I want french toast.” He said it like I was confused about what he said the first time. I told him I was making french toast. We went back and forth a few times when he finally said he’d make it. He pulled out jelly and a slice of cheese. He told me he needed the toaster. When he was done I was grossed out. His idea of french toast is two pieces of toast, grape jelly and a slice of cheese. He, also, needed Angry Birds graham crackers and a vanilla milk. A breakfast of champions!

Me: That is not french toast, C.

C: Yes it is. French people eat french toast. I love going to French.

Me: You mean France?

C: No, it is French. <—said slowly like I was completely uneducated.

Now everything he says to me he says slowly because I clearly have no idea what I’m talking about. I really shouldn’t be surprised. He does all sorts of gross stuff with his food and eats it. He dips everything in his yogurt and often mixes ketchup in with his mashed potatoes. It is gross. He gets it from his dad, I’m sure.

It is a little blurry but here is what is left after he was finished eating. Gross.

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