Here’s a tale from 2013, where my clever at the time 3 year old taught me the correct way to feed her breakfast.
So The Evil Genius (3 year old Lockpick/Astrophysicist/Nickelodeon Enthusiast) greeted me this morning with her breakfast order with a particular zeal:
Pepper: “G’mornin’, Dabby. Breakfast?”
Me: “Why, good morning, my little savage! And what would you like? We have eggs, toast, pastries, orange juice, the tears of our enemies, and of co—“
Pepper: “Cookie cereal!”
Me: “Oh yeah, I did get some of that last night. Umm… how about some Cheerios? They have grains, and a psychotic bee and at least lie about making you healthier… wouldn’t you like to find out what ‘honey’ and ‘nut’ taste like together? I hear it’s quite…”
Pepper (officially irritated with her erudite patriarch): “COOKIE CEREAL. BOWL. SPOON. MILK. Move it, Dabby! Move it, move it, MOVE IT!“
She then picked out the biggest spoon in the drawer while I poured the sugary death stuff, marched me to the table holding it like an AR-15 pressed against my butt and guided me sternly like a miniaturized Sgt. Shultz from Hogan’s Heroes, sat down and calmly stated “Ah… Deeeeelicious!!!! You may go now. Goodbye, Dabby!”
I’m going to miss these little events once their mom picks ’em up later this month. Although I fear for the state of Alabama, for Pepper and her stern lieutenant Annie The Bear (Bread Thief Extraordinaire and Destroyer of Worlds), will probably take it over and turn it into a prison camp once they get back there. 🙂
