She's Saving It For Later, She Says

I have a work thing this week, which basically means I don't know what day of the week it is. Or month. Is it a month? I forget because all concepts related to time cease to exist when I'm locking in a hotel conference room for 10 hours per day. The good news is that while my work things have long days, but they tend to come with fun nights. There are outings and such.

This whole thing is taking place in Pittsburgh this year (last year was Orlando), which has the little bonus of keeping the travel out of the equation for me. Wooo! It's nice to sleep in one's own bed. It's even nicer to be able to drive one's car to outtings and such because I lost the ability to ride on a bus at some point when I was pregnant with Mila.

Children ruin everything. Including my complete lack of understanding of car sickness. I GET IT NOW.

ANYWAY.

There was an outing, I had a car ... I decided to be that nice person who saves a few extra people from the bus ride. It's a real good way to make friends.

Unless, of course, your children are jerks.

Mila has to be woken up an hour before we leave in the morning. She watches TV for that hour, which is the only way she can manage to become a human. Seriously, she's not functional until she has stared blankly at the TV. She always has breakfast during that hour, except that the kid can't even manage to remember to eat the food that is right in front of her. That's how lost she is when she first wakes up. Food placed right in front of her is invisible. She will even complain she's hungry while a waffle sits there staring at her. That means that her breakfast often becomes "to go."

I have always assumed she eats said breakfast while in the car. I find empty bowls, after all. She declares herself "All done." I have lots of reason to trust that the kid eats.

SHE TOTALLY DOESN'T.

I learned this because while giving co-workers a ride to the evening outing, one of them came across the breakfast stash. That co-worker happens to be the kind of person with a Big Title who speaks like four languages and is super duper smart and professional and all that, plus he's a total neat freak. Like, I aspire to his level of perfection. It's super immpressive.

Welp.

He now thinks I keep Waffle/Cereal/Toast/Pancake Casserole in the back of my car. I have no way of talking my way out of it.

THANKS, MILA.