Thursday, April 16, 2009

All Your Breakfast Are Belong To Us

I usually eat my breakfast in the living room while Arin has his morning ba-ba. Usually its ucky bran-type cereal, but sometimes, when the moon waxes over the the third house, I will have some delectable Bobo-tempting treat like a Pillsbury cinnamon bun. On such days as this, if I am so absentminded as to wander off mid-bite to attend to some pressing matter like putting a spoon in the dishwasher or fetching Bobo's discarded socks from the bedroom, this is what I will find upon my return:

Little man just can't wait for his own! Guess it tastes better when you *sneak* it.



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