"Breakfast kiddos!," I announced full of anticipation and hope. I was serving up a favorite---cinnamon toast, sausage links and fruit. (Toast of any kind is a big deal in our house since going gluten free. Bread making is time-intensive and takes a lot of planning---two things I don't have, time and planning-ahead skills.)
"Where's my pancakes?" asked Peyton as he sulked into the kitchen.
"Every morning I have to walk all the way to the hook and get my backpack, geez," huffed Lucy as she stomped through the room on her way to the dreaded hook. (Remember our house is under 1,200 square feet, so no where is a long walk. Not even for a 7 year old.)
Like usual I stood there with a dumb, confused look and frozen smile that begged the question "why don't you like me?" I put down the sausage pan and said, "You know this isn't a Disney movie and I am not stupid old Cinderella."
Not sure if it was the sausage withholding or the idea that I called Cinderella stupid, but I got their attention.
"I am not singing with cute little mice while I make your breakfast and clean your rooms. Just to have you act like the mean step-sisters and not treat me nicely," I stated as I danced around singing like Cinderella in a high-pitched voice. We all laughed.
It was a new spin on an old speech, but it made us all smile and we had a nice breakfast. I bought another hour of respect, er, um, I guess you'd call it that.
And even though it ain't Disney, my life is pretty magical.
"Where's my pancakes?" asked Peyton as he sulked into the kitchen.
"Every morning I have to walk all the way to the hook and get my backpack, geez," huffed Lucy as she stomped through the room on her way to the dreaded hook. (Remember our house is under 1,200 square feet, so no where is a long walk. Not even for a 7 year old.)
Like usual I stood there with a dumb, confused look and frozen smile that begged the question "why don't you like me?" I put down the sausage pan and said, "You know this isn't a Disney movie and I am not stupid old Cinderella."
Not sure if it was the sausage withholding or the idea that I called Cinderella stupid, but I got their attention.
"I am not singing with cute little mice while I make your breakfast and clean your rooms. Just to have you act like the mean step-sisters and not treat me nicely," I stated as I danced around singing like Cinderella in a high-pitched voice. We all laughed.
It was a new spin on an old speech, but it made us all smile and we had a nice breakfast. I bought another hour of respect, er, um, I guess you'd call it that.
And even though it ain't Disney, my life is pretty magical.
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