Breakfast breakdancing

Breakfast should be the happiest time of the day. You are finally doing your favorite thing in the world (eating) after at least 8 hours of not doing your favorite thing in the world (eating). On top of that, you MIGHT be eating PANCAKES. 

I love pancakes. 

Wait. Let me rephrase that:

I LOOOOOOVE PANCAKES.

So many carbs. I love carbs. And then you pour SYRUP on top. Excuse me while I eat my computer.

Anyway, breakfast. As I was saying, it should be a happy time. But my two-year-old struggles to see the happy side of it. We love oatmeal in our family, so oatmeal is often requested (even though pancakes are better, obviously). I get out a bowl, dump some quick oats into it, then pour some water in. Here we come to our first opportunity for trouble. I walk toward the microwave, and if the inspiration so strikes him, Jonah will declare, "I don't wanna cook it." I respond, "Oh, we have to cook it. It's yucky if you don't cook it." Sometimes he lets that slide, but sometimes... he doesn't. Then there are tears. 

But regardless of the tears, I cook the oatmeal. Then it's time to add the toppings, and here we have more trouble. I don't even want to get into it. I'll just say, there are issues with what kinds of toppings, how much of the toppings, who gets to add the toppings, what spoon is used to scoop the toppings, and whether the toppings are stirred in or left on top. And then there's the X factor, which accounts for all those times I have delivered the oatmeal perfectly according to instructions and +Jonah has seen the flawless product and screamed and fallen on the floor, crying. 

Yesterday was an X-factor day. Upon presentation of his oatmeal, Jonah threw himself on the floor, like so:

This is the back of Jonah's head, in case you can't tell from the lack of face.

 Then he pushed against the floor, sliding his whole body backward and straightening out, tantrumming the whole time.

It was a pretty impressive maneuver. I would have thought he was breakdancing, except he didn't do this at the end:

Instead he maintained his prostrate position:

In case you forgot what the prostrate position looked like.

This time I laughed, imagining him break dancing. But usually I don't laugh. Usually I walk away going "aaarrgh"--no, "AAARRGH"--and vowing to never give him oatmeal again.

But really, no breakfast is safe. If I'm giving Jonah a breakfast bar (aka "fruit and grain bar"), there could be an issue with how the wrapper is opened and you'd better WATCH OUT if the breakfast bar breaks. Toast has the same toppings issues that oatmeal has. You'd think cereal would be alright, but there's that X factor. 

Childless friends, you may think I'm advising you to never have children, but what I'm actually advising is that you never try to give breakfast to a two-year-old. If you can think of a way around that part of the day, please let me know and then go ahead and multiply and replenish the earth. And friends with children, if your two-year-old doesn't do this at breakfast, I don't want to hear about it. Then I will know that you have no understanding of why I'm walking around with a hint of crazy in my eye at breakfast time.