The boys and I almost always eat\u00a0breakfast together. We used to follow this with basketball or soccer, but since I injured my knee, we’ve gotten lazy. Now, we just do breakfast, and usually that’s way too hurried.<\/p>\n
This morning, I was late getting out to the kitchen.<\/p>\n
“Sorry,” I yawned. “What’cha got cooking for breakfast?”<\/p>\n
“Waffles,” my youngest said. “But not for you, ’cause you don’t like them.”<\/p>\n
“Cause they’re nasty and disgusting.”<\/p>\n
“Be nice!” my wife called from the other room.<\/p>\n
“Okay,” I answered. “They’re not nasty.”<\/p>\n
“Just disgusting,” the boys said at the same time.<\/p>\n
Waffles are a source of contention in our house. The boys and I like big fluffy home-style waffles. My wife, however, says we’re only allowed to eat the whole grain things that taste like cardboard.<\/p>\n
The boys solve this problem by slathering them with various combinations of peanut butter, chocolate, and whip cream.<\/p>\n
I shuffled over to the stove. “Anyone want sausage?”<\/p>\n
Everyone did.<\/p>\n
I set the links to frying, then started on my omelet.<\/p>\n
My oldest son was outraged. “Wait! You’re eating eggs? What about us?”<\/p>\n
“You’re eating nasty, disgusting waffles. . . with sausage.”<\/p>\n
“But we could have had eggs!”<\/p>\n
“Yes,” I said. “Why didn’t you cook them instead of waffles?”<\/p>\n
He glared at his brother. “Him.”<\/p>\n
“Hey,” the waffle-cooker protested, “you didn’t have to say yes.”<\/p>\n
I have a sneaky suspicion that I’m going to arrive at breakfast tomorrow to discover a plate full of nasty, disgusting waffles waiting for me, while my kids\u00a0are eating eggs.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’m a big believer in eating meals together as a family, not just for the camaraderie of it, but also for the competition. Enjoy!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[118,122,119],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-33308","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-daddytales-c","category-daddytales-n","category-daddytales-funny"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6DpYi-8Fe","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33308","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=33308"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/33308\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=33308"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=33308"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.pat-matthews.com\/stories\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=33308"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}