On Wednesdays, Scott will go to the Farmer's Market before heading home from work. He often brings home local tomatoes and other assorted vegetables. This time, he bought a few baked goods.
He left a blueberry muffin on the counter for me.
This morning, I hear Jamie. "Hey, what this muffcake is?" That's "jamiespeak" for "What kind of muffin is this? Where did it come from?"
I explained that it was my muffin. Jamie sits in his chair, to eat his breakfast of toaster waffles and banana, and says, "After I eat my breakfast, I have a muffcake." As if this is a regular event.
I gently remind him that it's my muffin and to go ahead and eat his breakfast.
I wasn't too surprised when Jamie started crying, as if the world were ending. I knew that he was excited to see a treat, and of course, he wanted his fair share. I suggested that we share, but he immediately started crying again.
"No! I want my own muffcake!"
I briefly considered just giving him the muffin. For about 2 seconds. I was about to pour a cup of coffee, though, and knew that the muffin would go really well with it. I wasn't about to miss out on that muffin! I sighed and pulled a knife out of the drawer. I cut the muffin in half, plopped the smaller portion on his Sesame Street plate, and set it on the table.
Jamie's face lit up at the wonderful "muffcake" before him, he smiled at me, and then wasted no time in gobbling up his treat. "Thank you, Mommy," never sounded so sweet.
He finished eating as I sat down with my muffin half and cup of coffee. As I raised my fork to eat, I heard a little voice pipe up. "You share your muffcake with me, Mommy?"
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