My brother, sister-in-law, and five-year-old niece came up to visit a few weeks ago. After learning that they were also oatmeal-for-breakfast-most-mornings people, I introduced them to steel-cut oats which, of course, provide the ultimate oatmeal experience (taking preparation time into account (can’t front on a groat, y’all)).
A week or so later, having freed themselves from the tyranny of rolled oats, they left me this all-too-loving voicemail message:
Seeing as they went to the trouble to iron out the foundation for an entire song, I thought I’d just add some bells and whistles — you know, clean it up a little. Here’s the result: