Breakfast in Bed
October 30, 2008
It’s a lazy Saturday morning. But I have to get out of bed, as I have promised my son, Kid Schumacher, that his dad and I would go to their school’s mission fair — you know, one of those fund-raising activities that schools never seem to run out of — and watch him dance to the theme of High School Musical.
“Mom, I’d like to have breakfast in bed,” this half-awake 8-year-old says to me, as he ALWAYS says on weekends.
Oh my, it’s 8:30 already. We have to be in school by 10. Dash to the kitchen I did.
Fried rice. Sausages. Eggs, sunny-side-up, well done.
Cafe mocha for my Bitter Half — 3-in-1, chocolate, and sugar. Ummm, smells heavenly.
And newspapers.
All aboard a classic wooden lap tray with a very-now Lightning McQueen placemat, courtesy of my racing-fanatic son.
It’s always like this on weekends. And it’s always nice. What a way to start the day. Nice, nice weekend mornings!
Oh, and it’s okay to be late… I think.
