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Sunday Morning Breakfast

Breakfast is a time of community, the time for sharing, and a time for family.

There's something about a Sunday morning breakfast. Maybe its because Sunday mornings are the least busy part of the week? Maybe it's because that is the time when the whole family is in one place at one time? Maybe it's because you can wake up a little bit early, have a chance to read the paper and brew some coffee before the kids wake up. I had some great memories when the kids were younger, and we had a "sleepy morning," not heading to church, and putting together a family breakfast. That's what we're talking about today. One time, I woke up early to make a breakfast worthy of my family, but something goes horribly, horribly, wrong.

Who wants Breakfast?
Every family member has a different image of what constitutes "Sunday Morning Breakfast." My wife wants to have pancakes, maybe some turkey bacon an English muffin with some orange juice and some scrambled eggs. My daughter like to have waffles,  hash browns a bagel, and a bagel with plain cream cheese, orange juice, or maybe some tea. My son is genuinely a meat-and-potatoes man. You put some turkey bacon, Canadian bacon, sausage patty, or sausage link in front of him (with some hash browns) it'll be gone in 60 Seconds. Don't bring your fingers near his mouth when he is eating because you eat those too. Also, he's is all about the fried egg.

Getting into the Groove
There was a Sunday morning in the recent past, when I woke up early, looked in the fridge, and said, "What the heck. Why don't I make some breakfast for my family." I fire up the stove, bring out the meats and the pancake mix. Then, I start putting the plates, forks, knives, spoons, and glasses on the table with placements. In the center, I place the pancake syrup, real maple syrup, butter, strawberry jelly, and some grape jelly.

I walk back to the kitchen to check on things and start cooking. I take the orange juice out of the fridge and put it on the counter. First, the turkey bacon and sausage patties. I put them onto a full pan after making sure they're at a specific temperature.  Now it's the pancakes. Fortunately for me, I got some Bisquick "Shake and Pour," so you don't have to stand there and measure everything out. In a few minutes, I poured the mixture onto a hot griddle. My olfactory senses smell the combination of bacon, orange juice, and pancake. I hear the bacon spitting, the small bubbles from the pancake popping from the heat,  Next in the cooking lineup are the hash browns.  I warm the skillet, smell the potatoes, add the oil put in the hash browns with the cover on let that sit.

Father of the Year
Here I am thinking "Father of the Year." The children will come downstairs in their bathrobes, with big smiles on their faces, saying, "Dad. Thanks for breakfast!". Then after feeding the kids, "I make a plate for my wife, grab the tray, and the kids, and I surprise her with breakfast in bed.

She wakes up, at first shocked, then a big smile stretches from ear to ear, "What's this? What's the special occasion."

Then, I walk into the room and say, "No reason. I just thought that today would be a special day. You do so much for everyone else, isn't it time we did something for you?"

It was then I started to daydream that I am nominated as "Father of the Year." There would be a statue with my likeness in the "Hall of Great Fathers." There would be Einstein's Dad, George Washington's Father, Charlemagne's Dad, and me! I was a legend in my mind! That's when my wife stopped by to bring me crashing back down to Earth.

Back to Reality
My wife comes downstairs and sees the table set. She smells the turkey bacon, sausage, hash browns, and pancakes: then her smile turns to a snarl.

She looks at me in the kitchen, "What are you doing?"

I reply, "I'm making breakfast."

"Did you make any coffee?"


"Do you know how I can tell?"


"Because today is Sunday!"

"That's right. That's why I am making the Sunday Family breakfast."

"You didn't check the schedule?"

"Check the schedule? It's Sunday. I know what day it is!"

"Nope. This Sunday is Serving Sunday! Your daughter needs to leave in 10 minutes. I bet you didn't even wake her up yet?"

My wife points to the calendar with her index finger on today's date, without looking at the calendar. There, written in thick black Sharpie marker in reeds, Elizabeth goes to church.

That's when I knew I was in real trouble. So the next steps are the ones which I believe are going to make or break the day. Is today going to be the day that I have to apologize to my wife because I cannot move our daughter to church on time?  I'm going to rise to the occasion and quickly cleaning up the stove, store leftovers plastic containers, run upstairs to get a daughter, and driving like a bat out of hell to church.

Time to go
I walk to the kitchen to the living room and yell up the stairs, " Are you ready to go?" She comes downstairs, takes one whiff of the air and says, "Why did you make breakfast? You know today is serving Sunday?"

I reply, "Yes. Yes, I did."

As my wife looks around the kitchen at the pancakes and the sausage, It was then I have an idea. I run to the kitchen, take the pancakes, put the turkey bacon, sausage patties, hash browns, and anything else I made that morning and created a sandwich. I put the pancake sandwich in a plastic bag and ran back to my daughter.

I look at my daughter and say, "I made this for you because I'm proud of you for going to church and helping out."

My daughter smiles she looked in my life she looked at me she looked at the expression on my wife's face, then looks at the expression on my face. She took the sandwich, smiles; then we head out the door.

We proceeded the car, put seat belts on,  and on the drive the church: my daughter had the most substantial breakfast sandwich ever.  I didn't even care about the number of calories she was consuming.  I was glad that the time and effort making breakfast wasn't going to waste.

Back at the House
As I approached the church, the question arose, "Should I drop her off at church, and drive back home the rest of the family or wait it out at the church?" I decided to venture home after dropping off the daughter. I open the front door walk-in is my wife, and there's my son sitting at the table. 

I walk into the kitchen, and the pots and pans are clean, the hash browns in a plastic container towards the front of the fridge and the oven and surrounding area have been cleaned up.

My wife walks in, "So, when are you going to get breakfast ready?"

I reply, "I thought we're not doing that today."

"Well, we have a few minutes, so don't take too long. Do you know how I like my eggs?"

I had enough time to get a few breakfast sandwiches ready and everyone out the door to a church. It wasn't the breakfast that I was thinking about earlier that morning. But breakfast is a time of community, the time for sharing, and a time for family. Maybe I didn't pick the best moment for breakfast, but it is the act of giving and letting my family know that they are appreciated. With that goal in mind, I succeeded.

Next Blog
Right now, I am working on the topic for the next blog. Should be posted by next Tuesday. Thank you for reading and if there are any questions, comments, or concerns: please let me know.

How is breakfast time at your house? Drop in a comment and let everybody know!

This post first appeared on Nick Stockton: Be The, please read the originial post: here

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Sunday Morning Breakfast


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