Breakfast is a very important meal in our house. It is the one time during the day where we all gather together. We have our routines; start the coffee maker, put out two different colored gummy vitamins for each of the boys, select a cup for each of them, preferably a yellow one for J since he is in yellow room, a straw and then pour the Kefer.
The boys arrive in their pajamas, usually unwilling to change their clothes till after breakfast. The next big question, “do you want cereal, oatmeal, or possibly a waffle?” On a good day, “yeah, sure whatever is fine.” On a bad day, ” No way, I can’t stand cereal, oatmeal or waffles.” As the clock ticks, my wife or I express some concern that we might be late if we are not out the door by 8.
And then, Ed, the cat, will pass by disrupting the whole routine. By 7:40, it’s time for some rowdy music from the basket of scratched up home made Cd’s and/or contests to get clothes on. “See if you can get your clothes on before the timer goes off.” Ry is too competitive to pass up the challenge. At 7:48, “Come on guys, put on your socks and then teeth need to be brushed, ” I ‘ll say in slightly more stern voice. If nothing changes, “OK, take all the time you want, you’re the ones who will miss play time before school. ” In realty, neither of us wants them to extend this, but we’re gambling that “play lot” time will inspire them to get out the door.
As we get closer to 8, one of us is out the door with a couple of back packs in hand to load up the mini-van. “W A I T for us!!!!!!!,” echoes throughout the yard. Buckle up. Quick kiss. “What time you coming home?” “8”, I answer as the door slides shut. The garage door goes up. The Honda Odyssey starts. The horn proudly beeps twice while exiting the garage. The garage door closes. We’re on our way.