Baby Kobayashi and the Appalachian Shuffle

Mornings are quite a mixed bag around casa de Eastside.  Regina and Dylan wake up like they are on a sugar high and begin their day immediately.  Usually, around 5:45, I'm jolted from my sleep with a whisper that's loud enough to wake the neighbors.  "Can I go play with the kitties?" Dylan asks.  "Hmmpghfrrt," I reply, and off she runs.  Grady and I, on the other hand, wake a little more slowly.  We like slow ballads to ease us from our slumber and fleece blankets to cozy up with while we use all of our effort to open our eyelids.  If we aren't pestered constantly, we'll immediately go back to sleep.  But there is one sure-fire thing that'll have the little man wide-awake and hustling out of bed: bananas.

You've all seen competitive eating on ESPN (of all places).  That's what breakfast looks like around here.  Grady attacks a banana like Kobayashi attacks hot dogs, except he doesn't dunk them in water first.  He just applies constant pressure to the end of the banana while he unhinges his jaw and stuffs it in his mouth.  I'm pretty sure he doesn't chew it at all and I usually expect his poop to contain whole, undigested bananas.  Regina and I have taken to breaking them in half, just to give him a little breather between bites.  I've really, really wanted to see just how many he'll eat, but, you know, parental responsibilities and all that.

Chillin' with my Great-Godfather

When Grady's done, he wanders around the kitchen until his next course, oatmeal, cools down.  At some point, usually at the peak of his banana-high, he'll spot his shadow on the floor and it triggers an instant reaction: he starts dancing like a moonshiner after he's tasted his first batch of the season (Yes, there's a season.  Don't you watch Moonshiners?).  The dance is quite a little hillbilly stomp and is likely an interpretation of the few times he's seen his old man dance at wedding receptions or rugby socials.  It starts slow, the elbows shoot out and start swinging side to side, then his feet start a little shuffle.  Once it really gets going, his elbows swing like he's in a mosh-pit and his feet start tapping and stomping.  When it really gets wild he'll spin circles, but that's only after two bananas.

Fuzzy kittens, banana eating contests, and Solid Gold mornings aren't a bad way to start each day.  I modify it a little to suit me.  I'm content with a cup of coffee, a kiss from my wife, and hugs from my kids.  But if anyone's up for a bacon-eating contest, it's on.