Some mornings

Some days start with cuddles and kisses and laughter, the others start with your child wailing and screaming because you won’t make him corn on the cob for breakfast and because his sister’s blowing on her porridge which, according to him, isn’t hot.

(I couldn’t find a stock photo of a girl trying to eat her breakfast with her brother screaming next to her, and no, I didn’t think of taking a photo of my kids while this shit was going down, so here’s a picture of a corn on the cob.)

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