Thursday, July 3, 2014

Short order cook

Kids were downstairs this morning, and I yelled down to ask if anyone wanted oatmeal.
Noah: Yes, please.  Lots of raisins, please.
Sarah: I want a 1/4 cup of oats, lots of brown sugar, some apples, cut into small triangles, and cinnamon.  Don't forget the sugar!
Noah: Oh, can I have a few apples too, please?  No blueberries, please.
Sarah: I don't want much oatmeal, just lots of sugar!
Noah: Can I have sugar too, please?  And cinnamon?

So I made 3 separate batches, because I wanted honey and blueberries in mine.  Sarah didn't even eat hers. Fortunately, one of my college jobs prepared me for such a time as this.  I was a short order breakfast cook at the cafeteria.  It was much, much worse, because I had to be there at 5:00 a.m., and there was always a line, and I had to cook eggs in a bunch of different ways all at the same time. Now I only have two customers, and they're cute, and they don't get up that early.

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