Monster blog

Breakfast is an ritual every morning. It normally goes like this.

I grab some eggs to scramble some for all of us. Theo or Monsa hand, whomever is closest, reminds me to get the chocolate syrup for their portion. Even if I have it in my hand they remind me. I then scramble up a batch of eggs and start two pans on the stove. Two eggs in one for them, and 6 eggs in the other for Elizabeth and I.

They then watch carefully to make sure I do not short change them in the syrup department.
"More! More!..Just a little more. Ok!" It is like a line from a script the recite every morning. My wife just reminds me not to burn ours while I deal with theirs. One time and she never lets me live it down. That and the time I added bleach to a load of laundry. She has a long memory.

I then take the plates to the table loaded with eggs and toast. By the time I get to the fridge and pour some milk for us and return their chocolate eggs are gone. They then just lay there like bloated ticks with bloated bellies. A look of chocolate nirvana on their faces. Bellies full of the eggy-chocolaty goodness I prepared.
By the time my wife and I finish they are ready for more and remind me, over and over.

I then counter-remind them that I never cook them extra eggs so why do they keep asking.
"Because one day you might". Then they scurry off to do whatever they do while I am at work.
Every day the same small circus occurs in our kitchen. Like a well practice play. They know their lines and I know mine.