Lena watched her mother-in-law set the bowl down in front of Grayson and watched him lean forward to examine the contents, his round little face flushed at the edges from chasing his cousins around the basement. “It looks weird,” he said with a grunt and drooped back against his chair with a sulky expression. He shoved the bowl away.
Lena saw Mary frown behind him and bit her cheek from the torrent of explanations, excuses, that threatened to boil over. He just means it’s not the same as home. He’s very tired. It was such a long day yesterday. He’s usually very polite. People comment to me how polite he is. He’s so polite for a six year old. He says please and thank you. My son is not like this at home. My son is grateful that you brought him breakfast. My son has no idea who you are, his own grandmother.
Instead, she leaned forward herself and grabbed the spoon, digging it into the cardboard-like, overly sugared stuff she’d stopped buying since she found out she was pregnant and read a different book on nutrition every month. She fixed her eyes on Grayson’s, so much like his father’s, and took a big mouthful. “Mmmm. Well, I’m going to eat it if you don’t want it. Thanks, G’ma.” The spoon tasted like metal, the sharp sweetness of the cereal stung in her mouth.
[This recipe for Everyday Granola comes from Molly Wizenberg and her now-defunct column in Bon Appetit. Thankfully, you can follow Ms. Wizenberg on her blog Orangette, visit Delancey in Seattle, read her book, eagerly await her next one or you can just what I do and pay tribute to her once a week by making this insanely good granola and keeping it on your person at all times.]