Ok, it sounds weird right? I completely agree, but it's kinda funny at the same time. I don't eat a lot of bread, I have 2 reasons...1) it's not all that great tasting IMO and 2) the egg donor used to bake it in the house and the smell takes me back to a time that was much less happy than it is now. But why am I thinking toast this morning? It's simple really...Orion. See this morning I finally managed to drag the boy out of bed and asked him what he wanted to eat for breakfast, he requested buttered toast. So I popped a few slices of bread into the toaster oven and toasted it for him. As I was putting the butter on the toast for him he requested more, apparently he likes a lot of butter on his toast and immediately I was taken back, back to a time when toast was all we had to eat. It was a morning, much like today, overcast and the sky was white with a dewy haze that you could tell the sun would burn off before long. I stood over the toaster and older sister #2 and Big Sis were sitting at the table right behind me. As I plastered the butter on my toast to camouflage the taste of the bread, they both started laughing at me and Big Sis says "Have a little toast with your butter why don't you" I can still hear her laughter ringing in my head as I just smirked and sat down to eat my toast with butter....or butter with toast lol Apparently my son has acquired my taste for butter too hehe
Butter...there's another thing that's a memory for me....I was a weird kid and I used to like to stick my fingers in the butter and then eat it. I would sprinkle it with sugar and eat it, I would sprinkle it with salt and eat it. I would get a whoopin every time I did it but it was something I just couldn't control. They say your cravings are your body telling you what you need...apparently I drastically needed butter lol Perhaps it was more along the lines of I needed anything that resembled something edible.
Maybe that's what this whole week is coming around to...food. I remember having to go up to the chicken coop to gather the eggs for the day. If I forgot and the hens broke the eggs I got into trouble and got my butt beat for it. I remember having to go down to the Braley Farm to get the milk because he sold it to us for 50 cents a gallon. It was raw milk (straight from the cow and oh so delicious) and for the longest time after going into foster care I couldn't stand the taste of store bought milk. Even now I don't really like it, especially skim milk! Of course, as you can see, I never died, didn't get horribly sick from it, and the worst that ever happened was I drank the cream off the top (raw milk actually separates in the fridge and you have to shake it to mix it back up or you can pour the cream off and have cream and basically skim milk) The egg donor liked to keep the cream for her coffee and if we drank her cream we got into trouble big time! It was always the dare to win....drink the cream without getting caught! That's one way I am sorry to say I am like the egg donor...I love my cream in my coffee and if you mess with my coffee you're in for an earful! AND that's a way that my boy is like me, he LOVES drinking my half-n-half! Of course that brigs out the difference between me and the egg donor...I willingly give the boy a cup of half-n-half and smile as I watch him enjoy his drink. He smiles up at me with that milk mustache and licks his lips and I know I have made him very happy :)
And that my friends is what I live for...seeing my boy smiling and happy, really, truly happy and content!
I hope everyone has a great weekend. Ours will be busy with bowling banquets and having some fun. I will spend my first weekend of June working on seeing more smiles and hearing more laughter, because that's what being a good parent is all about and that is all I ever dreamed of being...a great mom!
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