I've been up since dawn and have yet to change out of sweats, brush my teeth or eat breakfast. My stomach is begging for some nourishment. Even though Molly has already had enough breakfast to feed an entire daycare center, I plop her into her beloved highchair. After hearing of my sister's engagement, my mind immediately flashed diet, therefore I can't do my usual doughnut dipped in peanut butter topped with Froot-Loops. I might be over exaggerating a bit, but my usual choice of breakfast isn't healthy. Breakfast to me is the sweetest thing I can find in the first cabinet I open. For example, yesterday I found gummy bears.
Today, I bypass the gummy bears (well they were gone so I didn't have a choice) and cracked open an egg, chopped an onion and toasted bread. While trying to do this, I'm also picking up this, giving her that and just trying to keep her happy gosh darn it. Trying to keep her happy in the kitchen is extremely difficult because all she wants is cheese. I regret ever introducing her to the stuff. For some reason, she ended up at my feet under the stove. At some point I must of given up on the safety of the highchair in order to end the whining. I scoop her up under her arm pits and slide her to right and, in an act of desperation, I give Molly the box of honey nut cheerios.
The cheerios box, of course, was a great distraction (completely took her mind off of cheese) and I was able to finish making breakfast. The toaster popped, I slid the egg on the plate and warmed up my coffee.
Before I sat down to eat, I decided to snap a few picture. She just looked so darn cute putting her entire arm into the giant box to pull out a few cheerios. I thought it would make for a great blog post on how desperate I've become and how I'd risk a big mess for a few moments of peace and quiet.
As I go to click the picture, my stupid mouth slips out, "Hey, Molly say cheese!"