Breakfast

This morning I was working on a project, so I asked my 6 year old to make breakfast. He was very unsure of himself at first.
“I can’t make breakfast” he said.
To which I replied,
“of course you can, I’ll walk you through it. Get out the pan and fill it with tap water.” “
“What are we making?” his younger brother said.
“Oatmeal”
“Oatmeal? I don’t like oatmeal! Why can’t we have something yummy like noodles? You are mean to us mommy,” J said.
We then had a talk about talking kindly to your mommy.
Then G said,
“Come on J, let’s go make breakfast!”

Three times G asked me if it was the correct amount of water in the pot. Then he put it on the stove, lit the burner, and asked,
“what next?”

“Get out the salt, oatmeal, milk powder, vanilla, palm sugar, and cinnamon,” I replied.

 

“The airplane will get the cinnamon” J said.
“How many scoops of oatmeal?” G asked.
“Three.”

“How many spoons of milk? And how many spoonfuls of palm sugar?”
“Three and three.”
“Everything you say is three. Are you sure you meant salt? How many spoonfuls of vanilla? How many spoonfuls of cinnamon?”
“Yes, I meant salt, but only a pinch or two. Vanilla is just a little pour, I’ll show you. Cinnamon is entirely up to you. If you like it cinnamony sprinkle lots, if you only want a little, sprinkle a little.”
“It’s up to me? Wow. Okay.” Shake. Shake. Shake.

 

“Now stir it all up, and taste it. Maybe we should add a little more sugar. It’s all done! Do you guys want sliced bananas on your oatmeal?”

They sat down and dug in, proudly telling Daddy about how they had made breakfast
“all by themselves.”
Caught up in the moment, J even said,
“I love oatmeal!”
But, it wasn’t long before he was wishing for noodles again. We are all a little sick of our twice weekly oatmeal.

Just a little story about breakfast, and teaching independence. The End.

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