Ode to Breakfast

Kostyn has begun composing his own songs, which is delightful. I’ve been waiting for this day since being told of his three older cousins’ lyrical creations these last few years. Tonight after bedtime stories and lights out and prayers, after he’d flipped over onto his belly and requested my hand to hold and the blankets to be tucked up around him, he turned his head toward the wall like he does every night right before he falls asleep...and then he started to sing a sweet little ditty I can only assume would be called “Ode to Breakfast.” It went something like this:

“Yogurt and berries, yogurt and berries, hey!
And toast. Toast. Toast. Hey! And toast and a wa-ffle.
And yogurt and Mama and Kostyn and baby. Coffee! Coffee!
And toast and a waaaaa-ffle.
Cheese, cheese. Hey! And toast.....
....and fireflies, fireflies, fireflies*
I see ‘em! I see ‘em! I see ‘em, fireflies.
And toast.”

I sat there in the dark, holding his hand and stifling both my laughter and my urge to scoop him into my arms and squeeze him for all he’s worth.

Extra toast for you tomorrow, my sweet boy. With cinnamon and sugar on top.

*Rest assured, we don’t eat these for breakfast.