Sunday, January 15, 2012

Eggs A La Henry

I am not a morning person.

I prefer both my nights and mornings to be late.  My desire to sleep in conflicts with the early-rising proclivities of my farmer-like progeny.  Over the years I have fine-tuned my morning routine to allow for maximum sleep time.  I get up, eat breakfast / scan the newspaper, make the lunches, make the children's breakfasts, help with the outfit choices, drive Henry to school, talk to my sister Elizabeth for 35 minutes, do the girls hair and walk them to school.  I do all this in 1 hour and 55 minutes.  

And I don't mean two hours either... those extra five minutes of sleep are precious to me!

Because of my strict morning routine, I enacted a new family rule last year.  I proclaimed that if a child wants to have his/her breakfast prepared by their mother, then he/she has to be up and in the kitchen no later than 6:59.  When that clock strikes 7am, Chef Mommy has left the kitchen and hungry children have to fend for themselves.

This is not as mean a rule as it sounds.  It should be noted that Josie - the youngest and least likely to be able to cook for herself, although you would be surprised - rarely sleeps past 6:15 and Henry tends to sleep no later than 6:30.  The only person the rules routinely affects is Georgia who is very adept at toasting frozen waffles and pouring herself a bowl of cereal.

That being said, once the rule was put into effect, Henry decided that he would need some lessons in how to make the kind of breakfast that he thinks he deserves.  Henry loves to eat and seems to need more nutrients than Michael Phelps during training season.  Georgia may eat a small bowl of cereal and some yogurt each morning, but Henry thinks nothing of eating a breakfast burrito, a yogurt, a bowl or two of cereal and a side order of pancakes.   

In two short years, Henry will be a teenager and he has heard that teenagers sleep late.  Faced with having to chose between sleep and his stomach, Henry decided he'd better learn to cook.  He started by learning how to make scrambled eggs.

The other day, I watched him as he prepared his own breakfast and I was impressed with his technique.

His eggs were light and fluffy.

While Henry ate the breakfast he had made with his own two hands, I felt a sense of pride ... now if only we could get Josie to follow his lead, I might be able to sleep ten minutes longer!

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