A Toast to Toast
Tonight I was in the kitchen washing the dinner dishes. Since this time change we all have been getting hungrier earlier. So, dinner has moved up an hour or so. I was standing at the sink washing the big plates. I have an order which I go in, big plates first, little plates next, cups, glasses and then silverware. I think that someone must have told me that order when I first started doing dishes around 9 or 10 years old. I was rinsing a big plate when my son comes in the kitchen and I knew that once I heard his little footsteps heading my way that he was going to want something. Always a couple of hours after dinner he wants a snack. His snacks are usually fruit or toast and sometimes both. I was waiting for him to ask if he could make something himself.
I got a surprise, ok, not much of a surprise, but nonetheless he doesn't ask if he can make himself something he asked if I could make him some toast. When I asked him why he couldn't do it himself he simply said because I make it better. Him and I both know that I don't make it better it is just an excuse he uses when he doesn't want to do something like the one I use when I want him to do something and tell him he does it better then me. I told him he would have to wait until the dishes were done. So, he walks out the kitchen and turns on some cartoon on the cartoon channel. I said to myself he will be back way before I am done asking if I was done yet. I know how he is. Sure enough 5 min later he was back. I knew that I wouldn't get to do the dishes in peace until he had his toast on a plate in front of him.
I asked him what kind of toast so he proceeds to give me exact instructions of how to make his toast. He tells me first he would like 2 pieces of toast. Then I was to put the toaster on the number 4 so it can get the color brown that he likes. Next when the toast was done he wanted the crust off and then put syrup on the bottom, then butter on the top of the syrup and then a little more syrup then put the two pieces of bread together and put some syrup, just syrup not butter on the top.
I looked up at him, because up until then I had been concentrating on doing the small plates until he started telling me in detail how he wanted his toast made tonight. He knew that I was going to tell him something, what he didn't know but he wasn't going to take any chances that I would tell him to do it himself, which is close to what I was thinking, so he puts on a huge smile and says pretty please and gives me the one sentence that he thinks will get me to do almost anything for him. He says sweetly smiling that he loves me. How can I resist that. A please and I love you all at one time.
I proceed to make his toast the way he wanted it and set the plate on the table for him. He said thank you again. So, I am patting myself on the back thinking I made that toast to perfection. It doesn't take much for me to pat myself on the back these days, and then I go back to washing the little plates and my son calls me to the table and he said that he wanted to thank me for trying to make his toast but I put too much butter and not enough syrup it was a little dry for his taste. But, he loved me for trying. Meaning that he will ask me next time to make his toast again the same way and I should remember to put less butter and more syrup.
Then he gave me hug. My night has been made.
I got a surprise, ok, not much of a surprise, but nonetheless he doesn't ask if he can make himself something he asked if I could make him some toast. When I asked him why he couldn't do it himself he simply said because I make it better. Him and I both know that I don't make it better it is just an excuse he uses when he doesn't want to do something like the one I use when I want him to do something and tell him he does it better then me. I told him he would have to wait until the dishes were done. So, he walks out the kitchen and turns on some cartoon on the cartoon channel. I said to myself he will be back way before I am done asking if I was done yet. I know how he is. Sure enough 5 min later he was back. I knew that I wouldn't get to do the dishes in peace until he had his toast on a plate in front of him.
I asked him what kind of toast so he proceeds to give me exact instructions of how to make his toast. He tells me first he would like 2 pieces of toast. Then I was to put the toaster on the number 4 so it can get the color brown that he likes. Next when the toast was done he wanted the crust off and then put syrup on the bottom, then butter on the top of the syrup and then a little more syrup then put the two pieces of bread together and put some syrup, just syrup not butter on the top.
I looked up at him, because up until then I had been concentrating on doing the small plates until he started telling me in detail how he wanted his toast made tonight. He knew that I was going to tell him something, what he didn't know but he wasn't going to take any chances that I would tell him to do it himself, which is close to what I was thinking, so he puts on a huge smile and says pretty please and gives me the one sentence that he thinks will get me to do almost anything for him. He says sweetly smiling that he loves me. How can I resist that. A please and I love you all at one time.
I proceed to make his toast the way he wanted it and set the plate on the table for him. He said thank you again. So, I am patting myself on the back thinking I made that toast to perfection. It doesn't take much for me to pat myself on the back these days, and then I go back to washing the little plates and my son calls me to the table and he said that he wanted to thank me for trying to make his toast but I put too much butter and not enough syrup it was a little dry for his taste. But, he loved me for trying. Meaning that he will ask me next time to make his toast again the same way and I should remember to put less butter and more syrup.
Then he gave me hug. My night has been made.
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