Toast

Ever since I was pregnant with Riley, Casey has been making me "special toast". It is toast with butter, brown sugar and cinnamon on top and it is my favorite. Recently, Riley decided to opt out of his traditional peanut butter toast and instead wanted special toast. Being the ever-accommodating Daddy that he is, Casey made it for him. He has requested it pretty much every morning since.

Casey loves to cook, and likes to share the cooking experience with Riley. He has Riley smell things, feel things, etc. and is constantly explaining what he's doing.

This morning, Riley slept in particularly late, so I was in charge of breakfast. As is commonplace these days, when asked what he wanted for breakfast, Riley's reply was "Special toast." So I made him some special toast (I have to say though, I think Casey's toast is more special -- tastes better to me anyway) and was going about putting things back after I handed the toast to Riley. All of a sudden he started whining about something that I could not understand. "Monny, sell. Monnnnnnny, selllllll." As he grew more agitated, he started pointing to what had clearly offended him (something inside the kitchen cabinet). With this clue, I was able to figure out that I had made the grave error of putting the cinnamon away before allowing him to smell it.

After a good long sniff, all was forgiven.