Sunday, July 27, 2008

Lincoln Got His Own Breakfast

This morning Lincoln came downstairs before I got out of bed. I'm not stupid, so I knew that I only had a minute or two to get downstairs to spoil any plans of destruction that he had. He met me at the bottom of the stairs holding this...

... a bowl of butterscotch chips. He had already gotten up on the counter, into the baking cupboard on the top shelf, and poured himself a bowl. I said, "Lincoln, is that your breakfast?" "Yes", he said with a smile.

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