Tsiporah is making a concerted effort to eat right. Today her routine was off, so she had to eat her fallback breakfast: vanilla yogurt with blueberries and sprinkled granola. Doesn't that sound delicious? I am partial to blueberries and cottage cheese, myself, and could eat that till it comes out my ears.
Her rushed morning, and the age of her son (8), remind me of a time when F was about that age and our morning routine was off. F didn't have time to eat breakfast, so I made her a peanut butter foldover and shoved it at her as we walked out the door - "Get on the outside of that!" (I used to say that when I needed her to go on and eat, but one day she looked at her food in bewilderment and said, "I'm already on the outside of it!") Halfway to school, with a mouthful of sandwich, F sneezed explosively. I had to pull over to the side of the road, retrieve a roll of paper towels from the trunk, and wipe chewed peanut butter sandwich and snot off her jumper, her seatbelt, the dashboard, car door, and book bag. Both of us laughing our heads off the whole time, and me thinking, that's what you get for being in a hurry. I've gotten to where I try very hard not to be late anywhere, but if it's unavoidable I'd rather be late than get in a hurry and make myself even later.