All's Fair In Love And Chocolate

Yesterday the daycare children (of which I presently only have two) came in with ziplock bags of cocoa puffs for breakfast. Owen took one look and decided that he, too, would like to partake of such a delectible meal, and who am I to argue with peer presure? Since I own both ziplock bags AND cocoa puffs, I quickly made him up a bag and mentally high-fived myself for getting out of having to actually cook anything. I didn't even have to use dishes! Or utensils! My joy, it was overflowing.

As soon as I handed him the bag, he plopped himself down on the floor facing my kitchen. Immediately, the daycare children sat down beside him, and they all three commenced crunching their cereal while staring at some point on my kitchen wall to the left of my dishwasher but slightly avove the doorknob of the pantry. I looked too, but didn't see anything but the wall. So I sat down beside them and stared for a minute, wondering what in the world we were looking at. Finally, I asked them.

"Mom," Owen replied, looking at me as if I were a very slow creature that he felt obligated to tolerate, "We're watching a movie. This is our popcorn."

Of course.

They proceeded to sit that way for FIFTEEN MINUTES, y'all. Fifteen minutes while I signed on and put up my Wordless Wednesday picture (and shockingly, you were all correct about the dry-erase marker culprit. However did you know?) and my living room was totally quiet except for the crunching of cocoa puffs and the sipping of sippy cups. I was flabergasted. But the experience left me with one persistent thought, one nagging idea that just won't let go of me no matter how much I try to ignore it. I don't think I'm strong enough to withstand the pressure.

I've just got to get me a bowl of that cereal.