My daughter woke up early this morning to make me breakfast before they leave for their week with dad. An incredibly sweet thought from an incredibly sweet girl.
She wanted to do it all herself so I was banished to the sunroom, close enough to reference but still removed from the execution. She made my coffee first, it was deliciously gritty and extremely strong to help me jump into my day.
She decided on pancakes and worked so hard on different shapes. When given the options, I chose a medium snowman…
We ate the delectable phallic pancakes and got everyone cleaned up but the syrup (and the quadruple espresso) gave us the slap happy giggles, which evolved into a dance off.
Imagine the three palest people you’ve ever met shaking their stuff to “Dynamite” all over the house with brushes and Mine Craft swords as microphones… we were hysterical.
When it was time to leave, I got big hugs, sloppy kisses, and lots of “love you’s”.
It took everything in me to choke back the tears. Goodbye is definitely not the first word I would choose to say to my children.