Let me explain. My husband will now be known as Mr Whippy or Mr Froth, depending on how much he whips things up!
You can probably guess why. On the rare occasion he is at breakfast, he whips everything into a frenzy. Maybe just because he’s there. It’s some kind of male territorial instinct. To show who is boss or something. Maybe because the five of us all cram and huddle around a breakfast bar originally designed for two! Or maybe it is really because he didnot sleep too well, but would never admit it. It is busy with three kids, I would be lying if I denied that. There is always a lot going on and sometimes it is just the noise levels first thing that are difficult to take.
On my own with the kids, I try and have a calm breakfast, encouraging the kids to start the day on a full tummy and deliver them to school in good spirits. Ideally no shouting involved. Calmly I stick to the deadlines / milestones I have mentally planned, without the kids realising it. Not always domestic bliss, but this is something I aspire to!
At times far from it, when Mr Whippy is about – whip whip stir stir.
We sometimes laugh about it but never ever at breakfast time!