It's Sunday morning, the rain is pouring outside, and a promise of snow has the kids excitedly checking the windows every few minutes. "When will it start?" they ask. "I don't know. Sometime today." But, I caution, it's very likely to be just a sprinkling of snow, not the mega-snow-day event they long for.
Truth it, I'd love a mega-snow-day, too. Just not right now. I'm prepping for summer camp registration today and tomorrow throngs of parents will line up outside to register their children for fun in the sun this coming summer.
I'm not going to let work dampen the thrill of possible snow, so I'm indulging all of us in a short-order Sunday. That means scrambled eggs and veggie bacon for the tweens post-sleepover, eggs over easy and real bacon for T, and a toasted bagel and cream cheese for the teen. I've nibbled on some veggie bacon and enjoyed some scrambled eggs, a rare treat.
Bacon and eggs. The smell alone is comfort food at the most elemental level. It's childhood and motherhood all wrapped up in sizzling sounds, a favorite cast iron skillet, and the clink of silver against vintage china. It's a quiet moment at the beginning of the day and the week, the perfect time for silent prayers and reflections.
Good morning.
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