Breakfast at IKEA

I used to go to IKEA for breakfast all the time. It was one of Tasha's favorite things to do because she could watch TV while she ate her potatoes and drank her chocolate milk. I haven't been in months. It is all April's fault. Yesterday she talked about eating pancakes and waffles and french toast for breakfast. YUM! I wanted them all. What really sounded good was IHOP and a big giant slice of french toast and a fluffy white buttermilk pancake with some sort of fruity syrup and then a thick waffle with strawberries and whip cream. But can you really order that? Do they have a carb plate? I know there are meat lovers omelets and veggie burgers, but really... give me everything made of white flour please? I don't think so.

So it's Friday and Tasha does not have preschool and she loves IKEA. I settle. They have lingonberry sauce for their very thin Swedish pancakes, yum. But please! Do you have to dump the sauce all over my potatoes too? I don't think so. I can't eat that. I eat everything on the plate except the potatoes that have been crapped on by the lingonberry fairy. Yuck. I actually took them back and asked for a side of potatoes. No problem.

Oh, sweet heavenly crispy potato butts... how I love thee, let me count the ways. And have I mentioned how delightful it is to share food with Tasha? She generally likes the opposite part of whatever I'm eating. She likes the middle of the lettuce, I like the green ends. I like the ends of the potato that gets crispy and have a little skin on them, she likes the middle that is soft and squishy. Does anyone see a trade in our future? You bet. "Tasha? Do you want to trade plates?" (As I show her a plate full of perfectly square middles.) She's game, and her plate came with 2 uneaten french toast sticks as well. I love that kid.

Chocolate milk, potatoes, and 3 slices of bacon is good enough for a 5 year old, right? We won't even discuss what I had, but the baby is happy.