Cute little breakfast

When I was a child we had a high chair that you could disassemble into a table and chair. To create the high chair, you set the table on it's side and put the child-sized chair on top. It was easy to put together and take apart.

One day I decide that I was going to make myself a little breakfast. I didn't think of as being "my size" or "child-sized." Thinking back, I didn't conceptualize myself as being short. I was my height, which wasn't relative to the adults around me. I was just the right size, and the table and chair were "little." They were "cute."

So I set up the little table and the little chair. I got a small baby spoon and a small bowl. I poured myself some cereal and got out the little container of milk from the fridge. I had everything set up, sitting by the doorway into the kitchen. I was so proud of putting all of these cute little things together.

I took a bite of cereal. I think at first I was confused. It tasted bad. Really bad. My eyes filled with tears. Mom saw me and pointed out what was wrong. The little carton of milk was buttermilk, and it doesn't taste good on cereal.

We had rules that we had to eat all of our food, and I was sad thinking of finishing the bad-tasting cereal. But my mom was gracious; she let me pour a new bowl of cereal. I had to use the big carton of milk, though, and it sort of ruined my cute little breakfast