My second oldest, Ronan, turned six last week. As part of the celebrations, I woke him up early and took him out to breakfast, just him and I.
In this town, if you want to get food instead of just edible substances early in the morning, you go to one of the local mom-and-pop restaurants which open early. The menus cater to the local tastes, which can sometimes be eclectic. Apparently, pork brains and eggs is a local delicacy. I decided to have a bit of fun with Ronan, who’s just learning to read.
“Hey, Ronan, read what this says,” I bait him.
He slowly sounds out the words, then looks at me confused. I nod to let him know he got it right, and his look turns incredulous.
He reads it again. And again.
Yep, it’s still pork brains and eggs.
He looks disgusted, then laughs, and interestedly starts to peruse the menu, wondering what other animal parts they serve.