Breakfast

Today, Hadley and Harper are eating Cheerios with milk, and an apple. I hate giving them cereal with milk because they spill it every time, but today they PROMISE they won’t, and as soon as the promise has been made Harper lifts a spoonful of Cheerios into her mouth and they promptly fall to the table.

She then rearranges them around her little Tinkerbell toy and says, “Look! I made a fence!” Then, she makes Tinkerbell say, “Help! Help! I’m trapped!”

Of course Hadley thinks this is hilarious and wants to do the same thing but can’t because she has to go to the bathroom.  She excuses herself and I encourage Harper to stop playing with her food and instead, Eat. It.

Moments later, Hadley’s screaming, “MAMA! MAMA! MY SKULL RING!”

Hadley has an orange ring with a black skull on it that she loves.

A skull.

She wears it every day.

A skull.

“What happened to your skull ring?”

Do I really need to ask?

“It fell into the potty! My skull ring is in the potty!”  Hadley is sobbing.

Over a ring with a skull on it.

“Can I see?” Can I see Hadwee’s skull ring in the potty?” Harper’s running down the hallway as she says this and I am running after her asking Hadley, “Did you flush the toilet before you dropped your skull ring in the potty?” (My dear readers, she did.  You can maybe continue eating whatever it is you are eating.)

The three of us stand over the toilet staring, Hadley’s tears plunking into the water below.

“Can you get it?” Hadley asks.

“Oh my goodness, Hadley, this is so gross.”

“Please!”

“It’s a skull ring.”

“Mama, please! I love it!”

So I go get a ladle because I’m thinking probably a large spoon won’t work, and I retrieve the damn ring.

With a skull on it.

“Can I wear it?”

“No, you can’t wear it!”

I fill one side of our sink up with boiling soapy water and throw the ladle and ring into it. I figure they can soak in there for about three days and then I can scrub them with a Brillo pad and then dump rubbing alcohol all over them after that.

We sit down again and the girls continue to eat, but only for a minute because Hadley decides to get beads out. I’m still trying not to throw up from the skull ring toilet fiasco, so I don’t have all my wits about me. I honestly think, “That’s nice to get beads out.  What could go wrong with beads?”

You know where this is going, right? Do I have to write what happens next? Nah, I don’t. You know what happens. The upside is I’ve already fished a skull ring out of the toilet with a ladle, so beads all over the floor is nothing. It’s all in how you look at things, people.

So the beads are all over the floor and Hadley says, “I can pick them up with my toe grabber!” To which Harper whines, “Awww! I wish I had a toe grabber!” To which Hadley says, “You do,” and plops her bare foot on our table with breakfast on it and points to her big toe. “Right here! A toe grabber!”

Tinkerbell is trapped in a fence of mushy Cheerios, I have a skull ring in my sink that I have to touch someday, and the girls are picking up beads with their big toes and giggling.

Harper says, “Hadwee, next time I’m the Star Student in school and I get to bring something to share, I’m gonna bring you.”

I hope Hadley won’t talk about her skull ring.