The other day, Caitlin asked Michael what he wanted to eat for lunch.
Mike, on an important call, I guess (he said he was talking to Jenson Button).
Usually, this question elicits an “I don’t know” or “peanut butter sandwich” response. This time, though, Mike said he wanted an egg-and-sausage sandwich on toast.
A surprisingly detailed request, maybe, considering he is three, but not altogether shocking. Mike’s egg intake can, on occasion, rival Gaston’s from The Beauty and the Beast. He also loves Egg McMuffins—something we discovered on a recent family vacation. Eggs are one of the few proteins he regularly eats.
Anyway, Caitlin made the sandwich and set it down in front of him.
“Mommy, where’s the fruit?”
“What fruit?”
Mike hops down from his chair, grabs a flyer from M&M he had been looking at and shows it to Caitlin. It has a photo of what looked to him like an egg-and-sausage sandwich (although it actually appears to be made with hash browns and is called breakfast pizza).
I guess he mistook it for the lunch menu Chez Walthert.
Of course, it has a bowl of fruit beside it.
So Caitlin, laughing, grabs him an apple from the fridge, washes it and puts it beside his plate.
*Pout*
“What’s wrong, Mike?”
“It’s not the same fruit.”
It sure wasn’t, but we didn’t have any fresh berries or cantaloupe on hand.
