On my way home from morning errands, I stopped by Dunkin' Donuts for supplies. Mostly coffee. And I did what I always do: I forgot to get a cup for Robbie, too.
I got home, and Justin and I got everything set up for breakfast in just a few minutes. Then Roberto saw the coffee. And screamed and screamed. He did not want his donut. He did not want his milk. No, my child wanted the styrofoam cup. In an effort to stop the screaming and ease the headache I could feel forming at my temples, I got a mug for my coffee and poured Robbie's milk into the Dunkin' cup. I leaned back in my chair, happy to have avoided the near-crisis.
Robbie happily grabbed his big boy cup, brought it to his lips, and took a sip. He looked at me, frowned, and said, "Nait nait. NO nait nait." Justin and I looked at each other, unsure of what to do. We both shrugged our shoulders. I took the cup back, emptied out most of the milk, and poured in a little coffee. It was exactly what he wanted. My nineteen-month-old son had a hankering for a morning cup of joe. I may have to start ordering decaf if he keeps this up...
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