Why is that girl eating my Cheerios?

And every Cheerio in the hotel belongs to me! When we got Eleanor on Sunday, we also received an update to her progress report. She's doing wonderfully, as you can see from all the pictures. There was an interesting notation in her file:

 

        "Gets upset when she sees someone else eating or drinking."

 

Way back in the Cenozoic Era when Sarah and I went on our first dates, I was by far the "better orderer" at restaurants. She's since matched my ability to find the best items on nearly any menu, extreme ethnic and overseas excepted.

 

When we went on our first dates, Sarah ordered conservatively and was, I think, generally disappointed in her choices. Assessing the situation cooly, Sarah often looked at what I was eating, noted that I was very happy in my choice, took a deep breath and with one motion and a quick mis-direction feint would say: "Are you gonna eat all of that?" and would promptly spear the other half of my entree onto her fork, plop it on her side plate and promptly devour it with gusto. I had finally met the right person to spend the rest of my life with...

 

And so it is with Eleanor. We were in a bus on our way to a government office when she spied a child outside munching on something. Out came Eleanor's snack bowl [Hat tip to the Planek's for the bowl; thank you so much!]. One of the other girls gets a handful of rice puffs, out comes the the snack bowl.

 

It is my solemn and sworn duty from this moment forward to keep our supplies topped up lest there be an epic battle between my two gourmands... And with that, it's nearly time for dinner.

 

Marc (typing), Sarah, Ella and Tyler (sleeping, albeit not all in the same place)