Ice Cream for Breakfast

If you live in Jackson, MS and have Comcast, you are well aware that last Saturday everyone lost their cable until Monday. My husband throws in the towel and goes to bed. I get on Facebook and end up talking to a few friends that I haven't talked to in years, so it worked out well...UNTIL my brother gets on Facebook. We IM a few times and then decide to Skype. This is where it all goes downhill. After I few hours and who knows how many glasses of wine, I start nodding off and call it a night. 

The next morning I am hungover as hell. Scott and Grace wake up early so they head out. I try to convince him to wake up Aubrey and take her, but no dice. 

Hate when that damn "don't ever wake a sleeping child" rule comes back and bites me on the ass. 

A little while later Aubrey is up and wants breakfast. I convince her to get in bed with me and watch cartoons. This lasts about 15 minutes before she decides she's hungry. I told her to go get a granola bar out of the cabinet. Aubrey has different ideas about breakfast. She walks back in the room with an ice cream cone, knowing that's against the rules. 

Me: "You know you can't have ice cream for breakfast. Put that up and get a granola bar." 

Aubrey: "I can't reach it. You get it, Mommy."

For those of you who don't know Aubrey, let me explain that Mickey Mouse shooting fireworks out of his ass while sliding down a monster slide into a swimming pool, would not deter that child from food.

At this point, Aubrey and I both know she's won. Well played, kiddo. Well played.

That morning, ladies and gentlemen, my Mother of the Year Award crown was placed on my hung over head by a pair of sticky ice cream fingers and was given an empty bottle(s) of wine for my septor.