Breakfast with Dog

So many things I want to share. So little time. Been thinking lately, hence no blogging. Will blog later about my thinking.

This morning, we got up and after morning cuddles and babbles, I set about making oatmeal. We have oatmeal daily, except Saturday as Chris can't bear oatmeal more than 5 days a week. While I make breakfast, Abigail wanders and plays and drinks her milk.

Today in her wandering she reconnected with Stuffed dog. I haven't seen Stuffed Dog in a few days and Abigail seemed happy to have found him.

As I was dishing out the oatmeal, I hear the frantic slaps of a barefoot toddler on hard floors on a mission. Chris says they sound like duck feet. I just have to see what she is up to. Plop, Thud. Stuffed Dog is sitting in the high chair, well more standing on his head than sitting, and the sippy cup of milk is on the tray. (Time to start setting the table, I think.)

After ousting Stuffed Dog, Abigail and I say grace. "Anen, Anen, Anen!" Food grabbing and face stuffing. Part way through breakfast, say half way finished with oatmeal, the pleading begins. She wants the stuffed dog to sit with her! I must remind you of the glue-like quality of oatmeal. But I comply and shove Stuffed Dog into the chair beside her.

Unhappy with that arrangement, Stuffed Dog comes out to sit on the tray and be fed oatmeal. I so wanted a picture, but, as always happens when the camera comes out, Stuffed Dog should received several slams off of the high chair tray flinging oatmeal out of the bowl.

Breakfast was over.