Olivia starts every morning with the same request – she asks for a bowl of oatmeal. Her request is actually more of a proclamation: “Oh-me, oh-me!” She used to sit and eat on the floor while I caught up on a DVR-ed The Daily Show or Pardon the Interruption before work. Realizing that this arrangement was bad form on my part, I’ve since moved her to the kitchen. These days, Olivia reduces her cholesterol level from her highchair in absence of the idiot box.
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