If you give a mouse a cookie

Before going to bed, I asked EggEgg, "Would you like to help Mami bake something yummy tomorrow? More muffins? Waffles?"

"Cookies!!" EggEgg exclaimed enthusiastically. 

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On Sunday morning, we woke up pretty late. Tonton survived another feverish night. EggEgg was coughing badly in the night too, and had to take Claratyne to ease the urge.

(The mould contamination in the house is getting unbearable at this stage. I'm afraid we'll have to move to another decent house very, very soon.)

With drowsy eyes still half closed, I dunked my coffee and ate some bread slices. EggEgg refused all forms of breakfast. He only drank a glass of milk. He's smiling at me and announced, "See? I'm like the mouse in the story."

"What story? What mouse? Why aren't you wanting any breakfast?" My brain is preoccupied with the daunting prospect of another house move in merely 15 months. The stress is making my tempers short.

"The mouse in the storybook that Mami read! The mouse drink some milk."

"Huh? What milk? What mouse?" I'm still at a loss.

EggEgg's eyes are twinkling mischievously. "Mami. The mouse who drank the milk and then wanted cookies next!"

Ah. So that's where he's at. Cookies. He still remembered my promise from last night. I have no more energy to bake in the morning, we'll have to postpone that to the afternoon... or tomorrow... or the day after... or until he's forgotten about the promise.