A week ago I woke up to a surprise breakfast. It was on the table, pancakes (even blueberry ones!), fruit, coffee, the whole 9 yards. It was a father-daughter initiative and felt so good on the maternal front... I don't know what I liked more, the food, the partnership, the late sleeping, the cleaned kitchen, the someone-else-cooked...it was just so good all around, a Saturday morning bliss.
You should know now that as part of my renewed effort to wear ALL my cloths, I gave up breakfast a while ago. So this time I made an exception and it was a well worth it one.
This weekend, princess came to our bed and whispered in my ear, it was time for pay back. It was our turn to do the surprise breakfast act on Daddy. Oy.
I got up, cleaned the sink, emptied the dishwasher while thinking of a gazillion excuses, feeling ashamed of my thoughts, more excuses, "OK, how do I minimize the damage now - the kitchen looks so CLEAN!" thoughts... and then I couldn't run nor hide anymore, I had to come up with a plan.
So I made coffee. It is a good start, admit it.
Princess got impatient. She dreamed of three tier pancake stack, with whipping cream, a cherry on top and we weren't on the way of pursuing it. Yet.
Enters the O-so-magnificent daddy, the knight of mornings, Donald De Dog lazily wagging to follow and offered... are you reading? offered to HELP!
Now I'm not the type to need help. Even in the rare occasion I actually need (OMG, I said it) help, I don't ask for it. It is sooo forbidden in the Wonder Woman Bylaws.
But this time I excepted. In my defence I'll say that THE KITCHEN WAS SO CLEAN. I know you get me. you got me at cleeeaaaan, right?