Happy Father's Day ...

We were awoken by a tentative knock on the bedroom door at around 8.00am this morning. K shuffled into the room with a look of intense concentration on his face ... and breakfast in bed "made all by myself" for both the MOTH and I (his reasoning being that if it wasn't for me, the MOTH wouldn't be a Daddy, so I deserve breakfast in bed too) ...

Now, I'm not naturally a morning person. Two rugrats have forced me to become a "grin-and-bear-it" morning person. I'm not good with breakfast at the best of times ...

But I still managed to summon the appropriate amount of enthusiasm for two pieces of cold "toast" with vegemite (I'm not sure what's up with the other people in my house ... I tend towards the "nearly overcooked" version of toast, while everyone else prefers the "barely warm bread" end of the spectrum). The MOTH fared slightly better with cereal, fruit and yoghurt.

And K remembered how we both have our coffee. Except he couldn't prise the lid off the coffee jar the MOTH prefers, so he made him hot chocolate. He even remembered I take sweetener tablets instead of sugar. However, in all the concentration, I suspect he actually forgot to put the coffee in my cup, as it bore a startling resemblence to warm, milky water.

So we ate every bite - under the nervous, watchful, apprehensive gaze of a very very proud seven year old ...