The sun was just peeping between the shutters this morning, when the boys noisily tip-toed and giggled into our room…
Jeffrey, thinking he was quiet, in a loud little-boy whisper: Bean! You take dad, I’ll take mom…
Beanie, giggling: DAD! Jeffrey: MOM!
We were awake already, and rolled over to look at their bright, rosy faces. They were obviously excited and had something up their sleeves.
Jeffrey, wiggling out of his skin with anticipation: Mom! Dad! Come downstairs! Me and Bean have a surprise for you! Come on! Now! Mom dad mom mom mom dad dad DAD!
DH and I look at each other, eyes mirroring hesitation and ever-so-slight horror at what the surprise might be… But we dragged ourselves from bed and followed their eager, jammie-clad footsteps down the stairs. Racing around the corner into the dining room, we followed, DH and I again exchanged glances, and small smiles.
In the dining room, at the table, was breakfast for my darling husband and myself. At our places, we each had a large paper towel carefully laid out, and sitting upon it was a cheese, bologna and mayonnaise sandwich. There was also a very full, but carefully poured, tall glass of milk for each of us. The boys stood, arms outstretched in presentation, positively delighted with themselves.
DH and I sat down to a scrumptious breakfast, prepared and served to us by precious little hands that I am used to serving. I did whisper to DH, on the sly, that we didn’t have any bologna that I knew of, and strategically slid the antique meat off the sandwich and under our paper towels.
It was the best mayonnaise and cheese sandwich I’ve ever had.