Eat ALL the Oreos!

My three-year-old gets up before I do.  Normally not much before I do, since Edward often starts his day by kicking me in the sleeping face, but certainly at least a few seconds before I do.  But actually, those face kicking days are safer and more desirable than those days on which he gets up and does not wake me.

I mean, he wakes me eventually.  Sometimes it is via a neighbor, bringing him back into the house because he has escaped (this is why we installed the extra high up lock), and sometimes it is because he is making me toast and trying to burn the house down (this is why I unplugged the toaster), but usually it is just because he is screaming something.  Often he is screaming because he cannot find his mother, and then I have to wake up and explain to him (for the 423rd time) that she is at work.  But sometimes he is screaming for a new and exciting reason.

Yesterday morning I was awoken from my slumber by some loud shouting that appeared to be coming from my living room.  As I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, I heard my son’s voice happily calling out what sounded to me like “I LOOOOVE OREOS!  I eat ALL da Oreos!”  Still woozy and partially asleep, I tried to recall if there were, in fact, any oreos in the house.  And then I remembered.  My wife had just been to the store the day before and brought home a family-sized package of double-stuf oreos!  And yes, that’s how Nabisco intentionally misspelled it.

Leaping out of my bed, I sprinted through my bedroom door and down the stairs, dreading the scene that I was about to find.  As I flew down the stairs two at a time, my son continued to sing the praises of oreos, and declaring that he was going to eat them all up.  I raced around the corner to find Edward sitting on the couch, mouth full, bowl in hand, and smiling excitedly up at me.

“What are you yelling about?!” I shouted calmly at him.

“Look Daddy, I eat all da Oreos!” he said proudly, holding up a small plastic bowl filled halfway with Cheerios.  “I LOVE Oreos!”

“That’s what you are eating?” I asked him, trying to restart my lungs and heart.


“Well, those are Cheerios, Buddy.”


So…..that turned out okay, I guess.

Posted in Bad Parenting, Cereal, Edward, Oreos, Parenting.

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