This train table is affectionately known as "the wooden babysitter."This morning, I came into work, and crossed my leg over my knee like I normally do as I patrolled Facebook at 8:05am. I noticed something on the cuff of my dress pants - it was oatmeal, my breakfast from earlier today. As I replayed how on earth it could have gotten there, I remembered that I was summoned to play with Owen and his new train table at 7:15am. "Come play wif me Dadeeee" was uttered numerous times before I realized that he wasn't giving up on this request.
I sat Indian style on the floor of his bedroom eating (and apparently spilling) my oatmeal and having a cup of coffee while Owen went around and around the table passing trains to me. Soon, P and J crawled in on our party and I had visions of the three of us playing with that Christmas present for hours.
While I could have been annoyed at the dried oatmeal on my clean pants, I just smiled and relished in the fact that I am constantly reminded of my kids when they are not around. It is one of the joys of being a parent and I love every minute of it.
I sat Indian style on the floor of his bedroom eating (and apparently spilling) my oatmeal and having a cup of coffee while Owen went around and around the table passing trains to me. Soon, P and J crawled in on our party and I had visions of the three of us playing with that Christmas present for hours.
While I could have been annoyed at the dried oatmeal on my clean pants, I just smiled and relished in the fact that I am constantly reminded of my kids when they are not around. It is one of the joys of being a parent and I love every minute of it.
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