Door to door delivery

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Little J came to my bedroom this morning and asked if I can help him get dressed.

My son is a born procrastinator. I struggle every day to get out of the house at a reasonable time. But today he finally realized the importance of listening to his mom and was turning a new leaf. I knew the day would come and all my nagging was going to pay off. So I shot out of the bed and helped him get ready. Presumably to milk the cows. Cannot think of anything else we could be doing this early.

I started getting suspicious when he asked to put on the shoes too.

Me: We don’t wear shoes in the house.

Little J: But I need shoes in the garage.

Me: You are eating breakfast in the garage?

Little J: No, I am driving my car to go buy coffee for you and for me.

Let me fill you in. My neighbor decided to clear out her garage by filling up mine. We took the kids out for a pizza last night. I was enjoying my gelato when she mentioned the Flintstones style car she would gladly give to Little J. Brain freeze made me nod in approval. She must have flown home on a magic carpet, because by the time I pulled into my driveway the kiddy car was there, waiting for my son to fall in love. Smooth my dear friend, very smooth.

So reluctantly I put shoes on my son this morning.

Me: Daddy’s car is still in the garage, there is no space to drive around this morning. You have to wait for him to go to work.

Little J: When is he going?

Me: In an hour. You can go on the driveway.

Little J: But it is wet.

Me: Go and see, it might have dried overnight.

Little J: Silly mommy, there is no sun at night. Moon cannot dry the road.

Me: Well how about the backyard?

Little J: Too bumpy, will puncture my tyre. I will go tell Daddy to hurry up and go to work.

We spend the morning outside our house driving a toddler car. Newspapers were delivered, Daddy went to work and I drank too much coffee sitting on the porch. My friend smiled across the road. She moved the red devil from her garage to mine and made my son blissfully happy.

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Wordless Wednesday

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and then, she {snapped}

Just one bite

The last day of camping we woke up to heavy rain.

Daddy got up and braved the weather to cook up some breakfast. Pancakes and sausages. Then he served Little J and me in the comfort of our sleeping bags, warm and dry, in the tent. I guess you could call it breakfast in bed.

We got one plate to share, with a stack of pancakes and four sausages. Little J and I dug in.

Little J: Sausages are nice. I like sausages.

Me: Good, I am glad.

Little J: Here Mama, we can share. Two for you, two for me.

Me: That’s OK son, you can eat them all.

Little J: I don’t mind if we share. It is nice to share.

Me: I know how much you like them so you can have them all.

Little J: Here have one.

Me: I don’t like sausages.

Little J: You must try one bite. If you don’t like it, you can leave the rest.

Me: I tried them many times. I know I don’t like them.

Little J: That’s what I always say. And then you always say I must try one bite. Here Mama.

Good news is, my son does listen when I nag him. Bad news is, I hate sausages even more. Being a role model sucks. Do you think he will be this passionate about having at least one bite next time I serve him brussel sprouts?