Peek-a-boo Porridge

 Once upon a time, during the depression of the 1930's, there was a little boy about Fiona's age who would not eat his porridge.  To encourage him to eat his porridge, his grandmother buried a spoonful of jam at the bottom of the bowl.  This was to entice him to eat to the bottom of the bowl for the sweet reward.  She called it Peek-a-boo porridge and who knows? Maybe it worked on her when she was a little girl!  That little boy was smart (he was, after all, Grandad), so he just dug straight down, ate the jam, and left the porridge.  Grandad didn't change much.  He knew that if he came out to the kitchen during breakfast, I would force a nice, healthy bowl of hot porridge into his hands (instead of the sweet muffin he desired).  He would pick at it while he told us the story of the peek-a-boo porridge his grandmother made him. 

I haven't made Peek-a-boo Porridge since he passed away.  This morning was a perfect morning for it-the oatmeal was overcooked and needed something special.  The smile on IJ's face when he realized it was Peek-a-boo was priceless.  And Daniel? He quickly followed in his grandad's footsteps and dug straight to the bottom of his bowl.