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.
I bet it was the best piece of toast EVER.
ReplyDeleteWhy is it that nothing to do and nowhere to go becomes magical at a certain age?
ReplyDeleteWhat the hey did ed eat this weekend?
ReplyDeleteFire roasted toast. Sounds perfect.
Yes. I am waiting for that moment as well.
ReplyDeleteFire roasted toast sounds awesome.
So perfect....
ReplyDeleteNow I wish ed would go away. Far away.
I am STILL waiting for that moment :D
ReplyDeleteThe 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.
ReplyDeleteSweet.
Shade and Sweetwater,
K
That's beautiful, Maggie!
ReplyDeleteThat's just a few steps away from french toast in bed!
ReplyDeleteYou sure are easy to please. :)
ReplyDeleteSounds delicious.
ReplyDeletecool! and it only took 5 years! you're lucky. :-)
ReplyDeletethat is incredibly sweet!
ReplyDeletesigh. so sweet.
ReplyDeleteThat is so darn sweet.
ReplyDeleteit was so sweet, until this: "this was the parenting moment I'd been waiting for" had me cracking up!
ReplyDelete