His breakfast is usually something he can carry when he rushes out the door at the last possible minute.I’ve seen Linc wolf down a plate of scrambled eggs for breakfast, looking for protein to start his day, but never Remi.
“Food.”
I chuckle, shaking my head.“I figured as much, kiddo, but I notice it’s a bit of a departure from your normal fare.What gives?”
His eyes find me and appear to size me up.
“I need it to bulk up.”
Ah, it’s probably a sensitive issue for him, since he’s still a pretty scrawny kid, especially compared to his brother.I do my best to put on as blank a face as possible.
“Boiled, scrambled, or fried?”
“Scrambled.”
I dig up a frying pan, turn the burner on low, and spray a little olive oil before cracking three eggs on the side.I quickly stir them in the pan with a spatula.
“Is that enough?”he wants to know, moving in beside me.
“Should be.If you add a few slices of leftover chicken breast from last night, it’ll give you over thirty grams of protein, but what else are you gonna eat?I mean, you can scarf down protein all you like, but unless you eat it with some healthy fat, fruit, and fiber, you won’t get the full benefits.”
I did a bit of research into nutrition after my doc gave me a talking to about my high risk for heart disease, and I’m trying to eat more balanced meals myself.
“How do you know about that stuff?”
I dart him a sideways glance as I pat my gut.“Because I’ve had to change my eating habits myself to stay healthy.Obviously, bulking up is not what I need, but I have learned a bit about nutrition in the past six months or so, and to maximize the effect of the protein, you need to balance your food intake.”
When Tessa comes downstairs a few minutes later, Remi is sitting at the island, scarfing up his eggs and cold chicken, while we discuss the merits of oatmeal versus toast or a bagel.
“What is going on here?”
She smiles as she rounds the counter and leans into me for a peck, before snatching her mug up and taking a full gulp of her coffee.
“Clem says oatmeal is healthier than bread,” Remi mumbles with his mouth full.
Tessa raises an amused eyebrow at me before answering her son.
“It is.It’s definitely a lot healthier than Pop-Tarts,” she adds.
“Do we have any?”the kid asks.
“Pop-Tarts?”
“No.Oatmeal.”
“We don’t, but I can add it to my list of things to pick up, if you’d like.”
“I’ve gotta get to the shop,” I interject, already running a bit late.
But I don’t really want to go.
I want to stand here in this kitchen, my body and mind still relaxed from this morning’s activities, watching Tessa drink her coffee, and Remi eat the food I cooked him, while listening to the two of them talk about simple stuff like grocery items.
Who knew this is what perfection would feel like?
Tessa
“Hey.”
