Tuesday, September 02, 2014

Breakfast

Kiddo had a hard time getting up today after the long holiday weekend.  She turned off her alarm and was just a bundle of warmth and softness as she hugged me, slightly tearful.  Oh, how sweet she still is when her little-girl side peeks out.  Smoothing her wild hair, I kissed her forehead and asked her what she wanted for breakfast.

"Pancakes and ice-cream?"

Her dad was already making scrambled eggs, but I went downstairs and whipped up some pancakes to go along with it.  I got the dad "stink eye" when he saw me place a single scoop of ice cream in a dish and put it next to her plate.

When kiddo saw that she had eggs, pancakes, AND ice-cream, her whole face lit up.

Neither she nor her dad asked what possessed me to put that small dish of ice-cream on the table.  I'm glad neither one of them asked.

I did it because I can.  Because sometimes, getting up is a challenge.  Because sometimes, I think about how a splurge like that would not have been an option for me when I was her age.  Because sometimes, it's nice to see my kiddo's face shine with happiness over something so small.

Because somewhere down the road...twenty or thirty years from now...my kiddo may be feeling tired and stressed and scared and unappreciated, and she'll need something to hang onto.  Maybe she'll remember the time she asked for pancakes and ice-cream and actually got them.  Maybe she'll be placing pancakes and ice-cream on the table for her own child(ren).

Because sometimes, something small and ordinary is anything but, and that's only way to make it through the day.

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