A Parent's Words

Austin pulled out his little yellow and orange laptop computer and started furiously typing away at the keys.  He looked at Daddy and said, "I'm working.  Just one minute, Daddy."



This morning, Austin was sitting at his new favorite seat on the kitchen counter with his oatmeal.

A:  I want bread.
M:  Okay.  Eat your oatmeal while I get you some toast.  (Since it was Saturday, I decided to do something special...maybe cinnamon toast.)
A:  I want bread.
M:  I know.  I'm working on it.
A:  (Noticing me putting the bread on a cookie sheet) I don't want french toast; I just want bread.
M:  This isn't french toast, baby.
A: (In a misunderstood, beleaguered, defeated voice)  I. Just. Want. Bread.
M: (pulling a slice out of the package and handing it to him) Here you go.

Partially because I hadn't had any caffeine and partially because it was such a funny little statement, I mumbled "I. Just. Want. Bread." as I walked away.

A:  What was that?
M:  That was Mommy whining.
A:  You just have to ask.
A:  You don't have to whine, Mommy.  You just have to ask.