By The Bloke In The Shed
SOME of my fondest memories as a child are of jumping into my mum and dad’s bed early of a morning. Compared to my own bed, it seemed enormous.
Not only that, I watched my dad – the hunter/gatherer of the family – religiously be the one to get out and make my devoted mum her cup of tea in bed of a morning. Like breeds like.
Our family loves our morning snuggles in bed and, yes, it has been traditionally yours truly to get out of bed and make the morning drinks for the clan.
Ella’s morning brew, as opposed to mum’s cup of tea, has been Milo since about the age of two. On the odd – and I’ll say very odd – occasion, mum has got up to make the family drinks, Ella has chucked the most enormous of hissy fits.
“No mummy, I want daddy to make my Milo; you make it yucky etc etc etc etc.”
Until recently, I’d always worn it as a sense of pride. That is, until, Princess Kel and I both had cause to be up in the kitchen during the drink-making ritual.
As usual I poured milk for Li’l Holly, a one-sugared tea for mum, a one-sugared coffee for dad and a one-sugared Milo for Ella. Princess Kel looked at me as if I’d just shot the Pope.
“YOU SUGAR ELLA’S MILO!!!!!!!!!!,’’ she wailed, like Tom Cruise wailed for ‘the truth’ in the closing scenes of A Few Good Men. I refused the urge to say “you can’t handle the truth’’ and offered up a feeble, “yes”.
“We talked about it when we started giving her Milo,’’ I said, with the knowledge I was backed up by my photographic memory …… um, what were we talking about?
Let’s face it, Milo without sugar is like bacon without eggs. It’s not right.
Whatever the scenario, mum was offended and upset at the fact her sugarless offerings had been treated with the contempt they’d deserved.
Ella and I looked at each other. Shrugged. And poured ourselves another hot drink.
God love her.
Do your children get to drink Milo or is it strictly a morning milk affair?