Cindy, domestic goddess that she is, prepared a tasty breakfast of french bread french toast this morning.
Reactions among the kids varied.
Cameron ate one bite and then ran into the bathroom. His face wan, he emerged a minute later, faintly asking, 'Does the toast have egg on it?' Receiving an answer in the affirmative, he then went on, 'I choked on the hard brown stuff [that would be the browned egg mixture] and threw up.'
Note: Cameron has a hair-trigger gag reflex--anything that he even thinks (and I stress thinks) will stick in his throat is rebuffed. As such, he hasn't eaten a nut since he choked and threw up at age 1.5. Nor will he deign to eat eggs--scrambled or fried--if there are any browned sections.
When Makenna came down, Cindy fixed her a plate with 2 big pieces of french toast, Makenna smiled, began walking to the microwave to warm it up, then stopped, turned around, smiled again, and announced to Cindy, 'I love this [french toast] even more than you!'
Allyson ate 2 bites and called it a day.
Erin and I showed our appreciation by eating it down with gusto. (Did we dare do anything else?!)
UPDATE: Later this morning as I was sitting in the frontroom Makenna came over to snuggle. As she settled into my lap, she said, 'I told Mommy that I love french toast more than her!.......And I love YOU more than I love french toast!'
Should I be flattered?!


















