This morning as I fed Mary her breakfast in bed, I began to think of my own breakfast. What will I have?
I remembered the leftover homestyle potatoes from dinner out with the husband. I remember the leftover slice of corned beef from St. Patty's Day. And we have eggs! I'll make myself some corned beef hash!
We finish up breakfast in bed, have our stretch, play, and poop time on the bed. I gather everything and everyone and head down the stairs. With Mary in her bouncer, I start whipping up a delicious breakfast, ingeniously incorporating multiple leftovers. I feel like a food network chef.
Even Mary agrees. "Wow, mommy! That smells amazing! It's got me all ready to eat!" I look at my eggs frying. The last component of my hot, delicious breakfast. I slide the out of the pan and on to my plate. My beautiful, professionally plated breakfast on a Dixie plate. And I make my daughter's Second Breakfast. And feed it to her. As my hot breakfast, neglected, slowly turns cold.
Damn.
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