Most people have an alarm clock. I have a toddler. I also have a mom who, kind soul that she is, lets me sleep in most mornings I don’t have to be at work and gives the Kiddo his breakfast, etc.
Well even Mom has her limits. This morning it was barely 9 am I had a toddler unceremoniously shoved in my bed with the terse command of “Go snuggle your Mama. She needs a snuggle.” Good morning to you too, Mom! So now I have an extra wiggly giggle box under my covers. He’s burrowed under completely and starts talking about Treasure. Treasure in my blankets? It’s called heat and comfort, Son and you’re wrecking both. Curiosity got the better of my grumpiness (or perhaps that part of my brain wasn’t awake yet) and I waited to see the Treasure.
By the way my son held his arms it was obvious that he was hauling out a largish trunk from under my blankets. He heaved open the huge creaky lid (I could tell it was creaky because Kiddo made a “creeeeeeeak” sound) and feasted his little eyes on a wondrous collection of the finest pretend Treasure ever hauled from under treacherous blankets.
“COOKIES!”
“What kind of cookies, Baby?”
“Treasure Cookies! Want one?”
“Of course. *taking big bite* Mmfankoo.”
“*cheeks full of his own cookie* Wulcom. *big swallow* That was GOOD!”
“What did your cookie taste like?”
“Treasure.”
“Okay…what does Treasure taste like?”
“Cookies!”
So there you go. Treasure tastes like cookies, and cookies taste like Treasure.
Cookie Treasure. It’s what’s for breakfast.
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