We scarpered off this weekend, to my father's house, where there is nothing to do and nowhere to go.
Saturday morning, I was delivered breakfast in bed, by the five year old, who had made me "fire-toasted bread" - with supervision, she'd toasted a piece of rye bread in the fireplace. She was delighted with herself, and I eventually went downstairs to tell her father that this was the parenting moment I'd been waiting for.
12 April 2009
Grace #7 - Breakfast in Bed
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
16 comments:
I bet it was the best piece of toast EVER.
Why is it that nothing to do and nowhere to go becomes magical at a certain age?
What the hey did ed eat this weekend?
Fire roasted toast. Sounds perfect.
Yes. I am waiting for that moment as well.
Fire roasted toast sounds awesome.
So perfect....
Now I wish ed would go away. Far away.
I am STILL waiting for that moment :D
The last time I remember having breakfast in bed is when I broke my foot. And that's NOT an experience I'd care to repeat!
Sigh. Envy. Never had breakfast in bed (I don't count hospital meals wherein I had no choice in the matter). Not holding my breath for such. Sigh, again.
Sweet.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K
That's beautiful, Maggie!
That's just a few steps away from french toast in bed!
You sure are easy to please. :)
Sounds delicious.
cool! and it only took 5 years! you're lucky. :-)
that is incredibly sweet!
sigh. so sweet.
That is so darn sweet.
it was so sweet, until this: "this was the parenting moment I'd been waiting for" had me cracking up!
Post a Comment