Friday, March 14, 2014

The Buttered Bread

Several weeks ago, our little family was enjoying a lazy supper in front of the television.  I honestly can't remember what we were watching but it probably fell into the educational cartoon category.  My husband had just sliced some freshly baked, homemade bread when the boys danced into the kitchen.  They batted their long eyelashes and gazed at their dad with their wide, green eyes.  Then, they held out their hands expectantly and hopped around the room shouting.  "Please!  Can I have some bread?"

My husband slathered butter onto the steamy slices of bread and placed them on a plate for each boy.  Son #1 and Son #2 carefully carried their treats to the living and gently sat on the carpet.  For a few brief moments, there was silence as the kids savored the tasty bread.  Their eyes closed partially with delight as they stuffed it into their mouths. 

Son #2 slowly rose to his feet.  His cheeks were smeared with butter.  His hands were sprinkled with bread crumbs.  He toddled over to where I sat in my rocking chair.  Then, he tilted his head slightly as if to ponder a thought.  I looked down at him and said.  "What's going on, baby?"

Son #2 clasped his sticky hands together.  His cheeks shone with butter as he pursed his lips to form his reply.  He paused, carefully reviewing his answer.  Then, he opened his mouth to speak.  "Ummmm...well..."

Son #2 paused again and then let out a torrent of baby talk decipherable only to other babies.  I'm pretty sure his answer was very poignant and dignified.  I just wish I could have replied with something more thought provoking.  Unfortunately,  I could only give a standard "mommy" response. 

"Wow!"

"Really?"

"That is so cool."

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