I recently discovered that my daughters love French toast. One would think this would not be news since I’ve known them both pretty well for fifteen years. The thing is, from the time they were very small, they have kept me on my toes with their ever-changing tastebuds, never wanting me to get too comfortable. As soon as I would figure out that they both loved the freeze-dried fruit packs or bunny crackers enough for me to keep buying big boxes at Costco, they would both lose interest and leave me with a guilty pile of uneaten snacks. It’s safe to say that one or both of them expressed a dislike of French toast at some point, so I avoided it. I enjoy the path of least resistance as often as I can.
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