I’ve just been served breakfast in bed for the third time this week. Not by my husband, but by our five-year-old boy.
When I say in bed, I mean in his bed, but if it means I get a few extra minutes of peace I’m not really complaining.
I had to choose “something that involves milk”, but with porridge ruled out (“too tricky”), the first time we had one-and-a-half Weetabix with two spoons.
The second time, we graduated to two bowls, Rice Krispies for him and granola for me and a glass of water each. I really need to get him trained up on the coffee front.
This morning, we were back on the Weetabix, only there was no drink for me, just a smoothie for him as apparently I had a drink yesterday and that was enough!
Future brekkie plans are being made around buns and cakes…now I just need his dad to step it up and bring in the caffeine.