Another Saturday morning, another Mom driven adventure. This morning Mom took Corwin off to a tennis clinic. She was also going to make coffee but had cleverly arranged for a coffee crisis - we were completely out of coffee. No beans, no faux-coffee drinks, even our emergency back up fancy coffee reserve was exhausted.
Mom offered to take Charles along to the tennis clinic, but Charles heard that I was going to the store and declared that he preferred to do that (“store!”). I’m pretty sure that he worked out that tennis clinic → no car, store → car. (I’m also confident that he used symbolic logic just like that, rather than holding a mental image of a car and searching for associated phrases).
After our return, Charles declared that he wanted something to eat. It was breakfast bar today and as I gave it to him, I thought back about feeding Corwin when he was young. He hated, more than anything, “broken” food. If I pulled the breakfast bar out wrong and it broke or became cracked, Corwin wouldn’t eat it. Even chips off the edge of a Pop-Tar would render it inedible. Charles, apparently is made of sterner stuff (or is just hungrier).
P.S. Sorry about the slow posting, more problems with the web hosting company.