A Very Nice Little Breakfast Date

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I was up early getting some writing done, when I heard a light rattle on the baby gate at the top of the stairs.  The sound that means it's time for the day to begin.

"Mama," he called sleepily.  "Mama, you hafta be nice to me.  You hafta be nice to me and let me come downstairs."

"Well, that's true I guess," I told him as I rounded the corner of our creaky stairs, unlatched the gate, and scooped him up.  He grinned.

I glanced through our bedroom door at Sweet Husband--still zonked out--and at the clock.  Sweet Husband almost always takes care of the morning parenting shift because he goes to work later, but it was still early enough that I figured the Kid and I could handle breakfast together.

As Sweet Husband does, I perched the Kid on the counter while I made his unvarying weekday breakfast--a slice of toast, a medium fried egg, and a sliced banana.  I'm not the best egg cook in the world, but I am getting better.  Since it was a nice day, I set the Kid up outside while I made coffee and granola for myself.  

I joined the Kid, and was able to finish up the thought I had been writing as we discussed the very important happenings at pre-school this week.  By the time his dada made it downstairs, we had managed a very nice little breakfast date.