Consider my morning -- Endorphins popping like Rice Krispies after my brisk 6-mile run, I gulp my cup of water only to realize it's toothpaste backwash courtesy of Dylan, my 5-year old.

Happy Monday. So I'm gagging on watermelon-flavored toothpaste considering bigger questions --  Is this just really another "Manic Monday" thanks to Belinda and the Bangles?

I think not.

The biggest lesson motherhood has taught me is how to persevere in those, uh, "humble moments."  Those are not reserved for Mondays. No, they can and do happen on an all-too regular basis. 

I see this as part of the self-sacrificing mode of motherhood. These are the times you make sure that your son or daughter has a quasi-balanced breakfast. Then it's time to dig something out for yourself -- a random piece of toast -- only to discover that the bread turned moldy sometime between last week and Monday.

Call me Mother Hubbard -- the cupboard is literally bare. You know no one is looking, so yes, you cut around the mold, pop the odd-shaped bread in the toaster and live on the edge. If you have eaten cheese, this somehow falls into the same category, you reason.

So yes, for the record, my breakfast consisted of toothpaste backwash and previously moldy bread. Somehow, I don't think General Mills will endorse this as the Breakfast of Champions.

Yet, I'm amazed with my new-found ability to absurdly reason these things -- if only I had that ability in college. For instance, moldy bread is OK because at least it didn't fall on the floor before I popped it in my mouth. At least I had a clean plate -- not a questionable one pulled out of the dishwasher -- to dine on. Now if I had to eat moldy bread, that had fallen on the floor and it was on a dirty plate, maybe, just MAYBE, I would rethink.

My journalism classes at the University of Missouri taught me to ask insightful questions, but I think Motherhood 101 has sharpened my skills in answering them (at least on days I've had my morning run, or a cup of coffee in a clean cup or, better yet, both!)

Am I confessing too much? Maybe I'm really the only one who faces such culinary challenges on a regular basis? Maybe it's because I'm the only one who harbors "The Pack Rat Within." (See my blog.)  

Somehow I doubt it. I'll give it more thought as I head to the grocery store to buy more bread.