20 February 2008

My subconscious won’t let me have any fun.

Every morning, I’ve been having oatmeal for breakfast. Which is odd because I have never liked oatmeal in all my life. But somehow, I’m suddenly in love.
So the story goes like this: I was gazing into my oatmeal the other morning, (I wasn’t quite awake yet) and I thought to myself, I should at least have something pretty to eat my oatmeal from. Then all I could think about was thrifting. For days. When I finally got to steal away, (all three boys were napping) there were no pretty bowls to be found. I did however find this fun little tea cup and breakfast sized saucer. (There were several, let me know if you want me to pick you one up.)

I love it.

And it was then that I vowed to make something beautiful for the first time I ate off of it.
But, every morning I have awoke, and instinctively made oatmeal, and not realized what I was doing until I sat to eat it and once again found myself staring at a plain bowl.

(and why am I the queen of parentheses today?)

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