Dammit.

This morning, as is customary, my first duties were to the children. Fresh clothes, bathroom trips, bowls of cereal, television tuned to children's programming. It was a solid 2 hours before I realized I had done nothing to tend to myself. When the children were sufficiently settled, I put on a pot of coffee and started making myself some toast. I poured a cup of juice and set it on the counter.

Youngest Child, whose favorite food in the world is TOAST, must have smelled it, so he came toddling in.


YC: "Mummy! TOAST!" [points to toaster oven]
K: "No, pumpkin, you already ate. This is Mummy's toast."
YC: "NO! MY TOAST!"
K: "No. It's actually not."
YC: "But...but...but..."
K: "Mummy can make YOU some toast in a little while."
YC: "But...Mummy...TOAST...PWEEEEEASE!!!!!!"


The bottom lip started to quiver. Fine. FINE! I gave him one of my pieces of toast and sent him on his way. It was at this point that the dog decided he had to go out, so I opened the door for him and turned back to what was left of my breakfast.

Um...hello? Toast, juice...where the hell did I leave it?

In the next room, I found Youngest Child happily munching away on TWO pieces of toast, and Middle Child drinking my juice.

At least they don't drink coffee. Yet.