Breakfast is by far my favorite meal of the day. How can anyone ever possibly have enough scrambled eggs? Such a simple dish—a buttered pan, two eggs and a touch of milk—but so delicately delicious.
It’s the best meal, but the one that we most often forego out of some masochistic need to get on with our day. I don’t know about you, but sometimes I wake up in such a foul mood that the thought of even opening the fridge to retrieve the carton of eggs is too grueling to imagine. I get up on these mornings with one thought only: I NEED CAFFEINE.
I awoke on this particular morning to hear the One I Live With clamoring around loudly with some pots and pans. Annoyed, I rolled over and buried my head under the blankets to deter the kitchen cacophony from making its way to my eardrums. How can he be thinking about breakfast at such an early hour? I thought. I NEED CAFFEINE. Then I fell back asleep.
“Hey, get up,” I heard him murmur.
I opened my eyes just in time to witness a heaping forkful of scrambled eggs covered in parmesan cheese rapidly approaching my mouth. Breakfast in bed!
I’m pretty sure that food doesn’t get any better than that.