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A Perfectly Good Bowl of Cereal Wasted by Jimmy Patterson
It came with little warning and even less provocation. The younger girl rose from her chair, took six or seven steps around the breakfast table to where her big sister was minding her own business, reading the back of a cereal box and harmlessly munching on a bowl of cereal. Calmly, yet determinedly, the younger sister looked down into her older sister's Cheerios, drew back a breath, and spit a brimming mouth full of strawberry oatmeal into the bowl.
When she was finished spreading her morning cheer, the younger sister turned around and walked back to her place at the table and climbed up into her chair. She picked up her spoon and interrupted a little smile long enough to take a bite. Below the table, her ankles were locked together, her legs swung freely.
Breakfast in America.
It really did happen that way, I promise. I sat at the family computer and watched the whole thing unfold.
The morning our younger daughter got up and spit oatmeal into her older sister's cereal was not unlike the bugle call that signaled the first battle of the Civil War. The little one was three at the time; her older sister was seven.
It was the first morning the two sisters had ever fought at the breakfast table, but it most certainly wouldn't be the last. Sisters have a desire, a need to fight at the breakfast table.
I tell you this story for only one reason: This particular incident happened on an April morning and as I write this four years later, both the sisters are in school. During the school year, our daughters are forced by the lack of time in the morning to sit near each other and, if at all possible, dine without incident at the breakfast table. Fighting during the breakfast hour is why parents relish summer so much. During the summer months, the two sisters wake at different times and avoid morning fights. One can eat while the other sleeps.
But now that the school year is well under way, we are reminded once again that it is virtually impossible for two sisters to grow up without picking on each other severely.
It usually happens this way: Our older daughter will normally be the one to stumble into the kitchen first every morning. She will fumble around aimlessly, one eye open, one eye not, searching furiously for something to eat.
Since the cereal or the Pop Tart box or the chocolate donut does not make it a regular habit to jump out, swing open its arms and proclaim, "Here I am! Eat Me!" the older sister will be forced to move stuff around in the pantry, and, fear of all fears, actually LOOK for something. This makes life a little more challenging for our grumpy daughter. For kids who have difficulty functioning in the morning, having to move stuff around in order to find something to eat is the first indication that the day has not gotten off to a perfect start.
While the older sister is in her one-eyed, grumpy search mode, the younger sister will normally stroll into the kitchen. Between the time the younger sister rises and walks into the kitchen, she many mornings will get the insane notion that maybe, just maybe, her kind, loving, good-hearted role-model of a big sister has fixed her something for breakfast. Which she has never done. Ever. But still, younger sisters always hold out for that miracle someday.
Younger sisters also hope that one day big sisters will, at the very least, get a bowl for her since she is not yet old enough to be tall enough to reach the bowls in the cabinet.
But, seeing as how another morning has come and she again has to get her own bowl and her own breakfast, younger sister usually cops an attitude. These ingredients combine for a volatile few minutes at the breakfast table.
In the true spirit of sisterhood, the younger one will then usually make some sort of snide comment, merely trying to get a reaction out of her big sister. The little sister's comments usually pertain to the way her big sister's hair looks, or how she has morning breath, or how the word is going around all over school how she likes some boy.
Bringing up the subject of a boy to a 10-year-old big sister automatically sends 10-year-old big sisters completely over the edge (even though she probably DOES like whatever boy the younger sister mentions, and her hair IS a wreck and she still DOES have morning breath). Even though everything the younger sister said is true, older sister will still get very miffed. The morning will continue to deteriorate from there.
Breakfast in America. It's not always sunny side up
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