Just like my mother before me, when I give my children dry oatmeal to eat I call it “people oats”. I think it comes from all of the hours spent pretending to be horses and putting the oatmeal into a little bowl so that it could become horse feed. Well, my youngest boys appreciate the name, but my oldest does not. In fact the other day he said that yes he wanted some uncooked oatmeal in a bowl with sugar and milk…but only if I stopped calling it “that name”. So I’m sorry Mom, people oats are not destined to be passed to the next generation. Apparently they are much too silly. I guess we were sillier than we realized.
Sweet Boy#3–peeks into the dishwasher to see if the dishes are all done washing–“Are you guys done?” he asks the plates and cups.