Fuss' mercurial nature makes breakfasts an ongoing challenge. One morning's glorious triumph is the next's inedible failure, and vice versa.
I've taken to soliciting his menu suggestions. This doesn't help as much as you'd think, illustrated by this morning's exchange:
"What would you like for breakfast?"
"Ahhhhh.....not gonna tell you!"
"Why not?"
"IT'S A SECRET! Hahahahahahah!"
I'm unsure if it's an improvement on yesterday's answer, "CHOCOLATE CHIPS!"
Absent guidance I went with two entrees that have a decent batting average- scrambled eggs & toast with peanut butter. Got him settled in an he immediately pitched his sippy cup full of juice over the side. Sometimes you have to prime the pump, so I proffered a forkful of eggs.
"NO!" he said, making a disgusted face. I fared no better with a piece of toast.
"Fuss, please eat some breakfast."
"NO!"
"Well, you have to eat something- what can I make you?"
He paused several seconds, then proclaimed with an impish grin
"A Play Doh....SANDWICH!"
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