In 2002, when I was pregnant with Katie (and apparently feeling a tad hormonal), I ranted for more than a full page in my journal about how I was sick to death of watching my sainted mother eat oatmeal every blessed morning for breakfast. Every morning I would see that bowl and my eye would start to twitch. She would load it up with raisins, cinnamon and almonds--and I have to confess it smelled inviting--but I longed to be surprised one morning by seeing her enjoy an egg...or a bagel...or even a Pop-Tart. It never happened, and now that I'm not pregnant and hormonal, I'm simultaneously amused and horrified that I was able to work myself into such a snit over somebody else's breakfast choices.
Especially because now in 2008, I have become obsessed with oatmeal. I've eaten it every morning for the last week--which is more times than I've eaten it in the last year. One night I even lay in bed with my mouth watering, thinking about getting up and making oatmeal because I didn't think I could wait until morning. Want to know the secret of to-die-for oatmeal bliss? Add a tablespoon of peanut butter and 10 or 12 chocolate chips and stir. Hey, you got your Reese's cup on my oatmeal! No, you got your oatmeal on my Reese's cup!
I'm turning into my mother.