This morning we began our day with a good old-fashioned fight. It was all caused by the revelation that Caedmon eats his toast wrong. Oh, you didn't know that there was a wrong way to eat toast? Neither did Caedmon. Neither did anybody, for that matter, except 7 a.m. Atticus. Any-other-time-of-day Atticus probably could not care less how his younger brother eats his toast, but 7 a.m. Atticus cares.
Deeply.
See, what we all learned this morning is that Caedmon flips his toast upside down just before it enters his mouth so that it's jelly-side down as it hits his tongue. When you think about it, this is insanely sensible. Clearly the boy is a genius. I may start eating my pizza this way. Nevertheless, 7 a.m. Atticus's sensibilities were offended. "That is
not how you're supposed to eat toast," 7 a.m. Atticus insisted. "You are eating it wrong. Nobody eats it that way." Caedmon pointed out that
he eats it that way, and gave his jelly-to-the-tongue reasoning. 7 a.m. Atticus did not care. He would not be swayed.
The only reason this altercation stayed civilized is that I was present at the table. They have flailed their limbs at each other's faces for less, I promise you. It wasn't just me there, though; it was 7 a.m. me, and 7 a.m. me is more interested in getting enough coffee into her gullet to get her morning murder feelings under control than in refereeing such world-changing issues like Toast Up v. Toast Down.
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| It's... it's so BEAUTIFUL... |
After I had shared my feelings on the matter, we all finished our breakfasts in resentful silence, THE WAY GOD INTENDED.
