Ups & downs

Life is like a roller coaster. You come across ups, downs, loop-di-loops, and sometimes if you're really lucky you can get whiplash.

Life with Jameson is like being on a broken roller coaster without a seat belt. Even when you see which way the roller coaster will take you, you'll get thrown out and soar in a completely different direction.

I'm not the best cook. Especially when it comes to breakfast. If you'd like to live, it's probably safer to accept food from the waiter at Denny's with the dirty fingernails than it is to eat my breakfast food.

Taylor is a hot breakfast man. (He also enjoys eating hot breakfast.) So naturally, whenever he wants to sit down to a delicious meal first thing in the morning, he takes charge and banishes me from the kitchen. All of this exposure to hot-order breakfast has turned Jameson off from my cold cereal ways.

I try to be a decent mother, so when my boy asks for pancakes I do my best to give him what he wants. Usually that means burned pancakes. Lately he has started calling them "brown pancakes."

This morning, I burned his first one, but the second one came out mighty fine (if I do say so myself). Apparently he noticed...

J: wow! Mom, look! Not a brown pancake!
Me: you're right. Look out, world. Chef mom is on her way.
J: come here. Hug, mom.
(I go to give him a hug)
J: mom, wow! SO PROUD of you! Not a brown pancake. So proud of you.

I basked in his praises. Not long after, I was sitting in such a way that my shirt was slightly lifted and the flab from my tummy was visible.

Me (fixing my shirt): oh dear. We should probably put that away.
J (lifting shirt back up): Wow! Mom is SO chewy!!
Me: I'm... Chewy?
J (grabbing my flab and shaking it up and down): yeah! Mom tummy really really really really really really REALLY chewy!
Me: ....uhhh?

I sat there wondering how I should respond when suddenly an agonizing pain radiated from my flab. I yelped, and looked down only to see my son had sunk his teeth into my flesh.

Me: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! You don't just go around biting other people's fat!!
J: uh, yeah. Mom fat is so chewy. Not yummy.

And within a matter of hours I had gone from renowned chef to a chewy fat mom.