Breakfast, From the Little Horse's Mouth

If you have warm memories glazed with maple syrup of breakfast time from your childhood, you might not want to spend the night at my house. Or you may want to at least get out before the natives wake up.

The cat gets fed first. Then the dogs. What happens next in our fluid household depends on too many variables to list. If you're a creature of habit and comfy with that incarnation, you might think of an early morning visit to my house along the same lines as visiting the zoo. Amusing place to visit and observe, but...

Some things remain the same. My giganto laptop looms over the kitchen table, a parking spot for signs of life -- unopened bills, articles waiting to be read, doodled napkins, eyeglasses, a basket full of unprocessed film and Scout badges, and the occasional Lego decor. I try to focus my foggy attention on four to 10 open browser tabs, chirping tweetware, a nagging timeclock gizmo, and piles of email. A blank Notepad blinks back at me.

The Roommate mumbles and pours himself cup after cup of coffee in between cigarette breaks outside in the cold rain.

Bring on the breakfasting preteen.

You might not know from the noise my household generates on a typical weekday morning that there's only one child living here. It may help to know that he's socially precocious.

He's already had at least an hour's worth of shooting and slicing creatures on his PC, and now it's time to fuel up for more homeschool chaos. [Editorial input from The Preteen: I was merely running, jumping, and crashing into buildings.]

My sisters and a handful of friends know that almost nothing tenses my shoulders like breakfast sounds. Especially those emitted by preteen boys. Especially when the boy truly enjoys his food.

Today in response to my usual "Please eat with your mouth closed," plus the added nicety, "You sound like a horse. A small, cute horse, but a horse, nonetheless," I heard, "Well, mom, didn't you just say that it's a pigsty in here? I'm a horse in a pigsty!" Smile.

Here is my little horse's version of snackable fruit, or 'How I Learned to Feed Myself At the Age of 10 Because My Mom is Always Working', delivered in streaming consciousness style:

First, I took a slice of apple and put it on a small plate in the microwave for 20 seconds. But I should've put it in for 10 because the apple began to sizzle. When I took it out (at 20 seconds), I burned my finger really easily. You have to let it cool off for at least 10 seconds.

When I took a bite, it was all soft and very moist, too. It kind of tasted like you took a whole apple and baked it, but that was just the texture. The taste was more like a baked squash with green apple. The kind of apple that I used in particular was green. You can use any kind of apple.

It mainly tasted like a warm, soft apple.

I next tested a green apple cut in half.

When you put the apple in the microwave, place it cut side up. Take the stem off, because it could catch fire. If it starts to shrivel, that's natural.

I nuked the half apple for 55 seconds. You'll notice some juice bubbling out -- that's okay. The peel will be browning a bit, too. Let it cool for about a minute before touching it.

If you don't have time to bake an apple, you can always just put it in the microwave. It's a good alternative. I haven't tried a whole one yet, but I estimate that it would take about two minutes. 

{This isn't horseapples, but in case you're wondering what a stick of refrigerated butter looks like after being nuked, here ya go...}