Dreams of Oatmeal

So the mess begins. I had to put Emy in the high chair this morning. She wanted to eat my oatmeal with her bare hands. I gave in and dragged it out and set it up. Got a big grin for my efforts and one heck of a mess afterwards. At least I can say she tried to eat breakfast today. Got to love old fashioned oats. Nice and soft but still chewie and easy to swallow. I wonder what I’m going to do for lunch.

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About Isabella LeCour

She is nothing more than the collections of thoughts placed into the virtual worlds. She is a poet, a mother, a lover, many things to different people. But mostly, she is nothing but smoke and mirrors - some ethereal thing that blinks in an out of existence.
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