I mean, seriously. I have tried repeatedly over the nearly five years of being a mother to convince them that warm steel cut oats on a cold morning is Heaven on earth. And dontcha know? They don't believe me!
I've jazzed it up with fruit, and jams, and syrups and brown sugar and FROSTING, yes, frosting. Cream cheese frosting to be exact.
Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I just can't quite wrap my head around why they REFUSE to even try them. It's weird.
Perhaps what is weirder though, is the fact that I am so deeply offended by their refusal.
THEY ARE GOOD! It's not like I leave them plain and oaty. It's not like I salt them and put liver n' onions in them. They are sweet and warm and happy.
"Ew," they say.
"GROSS!" they cry.
And it makes me want to sit on them and siphon it down their little whiny throats.
And that is just not a nice thing for a mother to do.
Well, this fine morning was a bit chilly. It's almost fall-like. It won't keep, but I had to embrace it, seize the day and all that. So, out came the oats.
And out came the crying.
In the end, with a brilliant addition of applesauce, two of my three ate it. (Okay, one of the three, the third one, well, he ate a couple of bites and chucked it across the dining room). But child #1 absolutely refused.
He was only allowed to leave the table after he tried ONE FREAKING BITE which took him 20 minutes to work up to. Of course the oats were stone cold. And so of course he thought they were nasty.
And then his little brother finished them off for him.
Ahh, Spencer. A sweet victory. HE LIKED THE OATMEAL.
Epilogue: Someone please send me two cans of TJ's quick cook steel cut oats.
The End, again.