It was a normal Monday morning. The orange sun was slowly rising as our cat pushed open the bedroom door and tip-toed into our room. My son was fiercely stretching his arms and legs before he jumped up, ready to start the day. My husband was still tucked cozily under the blanket, while I was desperately hoping for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.
Little boy and I went downstairs, he sliding down as fast as humanly possible on his belly as I followed. I refilled the cat’s water dish and fed her, gave my son his OJ and started the coffee pot. I turned on Sesame Street and went to make breakfast. I took out a slice of raisin bread, popped it in the toaster and began making an egg. It was just a typical morning, and then……..
The face appeared. It grinned knowingly as I almost shmeared it with cream cheese. Apparently he’d been down this road before, but I was not going to fall victim to his evil ways. I was not going to be one of those people that said, “The raisin toast made me do it!” I stopped in my tracks and decided there would be no raisin toast today and maybe not for quite some time.