Butter Both Sides of the Toast

This morning I watched in horror and fascination as my son ate a piece of buttered toast.

At two and half years old he has, what I imagine, is a normal but healthy (read: near obscene) appreciation for butter.

When I gave him the toast, there was a meltdown - no pun intended - because he couldn't actually see the butter on the toast. I realized at this point, much too late, that my husband makes a concerted effort to put the toast in front of our son immediately after the butter is spread and therefor avoiding such breakdown. Proof of butterdom. Now I know.

After the butter toast boycott ended, the eating commenced. Toast held upright, shoved flat against the face, so that the boy could, I don't know, chomp directly on the broad part of the toast to get only as much bread as he had to in order to consume the butter.

Did you know that there are layers to a single slice of bread?

The kid is skilled, is all I can say. He was able to essentially eat half the bread - by thickness. And this is when I thought - well shit, I could just butter both sides of the toast.

The epiphany: Life is kind of like trying to eat all the butter off of the toast without actually having to eat the bread. You just want the good stuff - all the cholesterol, none of the carbs - and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. So, why not add more good stuff? Put butter on both sides and it doesn't matter how you eat it, or how much of the other stuff you end up with because it's so saturated it has become the goodness.

Just a thought.