It’s 8:00 on Friday night.  It’s been a challenging week on many fronts.  I have no interest in making dinner and no interest in going out.   I open the fridge, stare a while, then close the door. I eat a few Baked Lay’s Potato Chips and open the fridge again.  

Soon bacon is sizzling in the pan and the intoxicating smell ignites a bit of appetite. I flip the bacon over, happy that I have not burned it.  While the bacon cooks, I get a fork and scramble a few eggs with a bit of milk, salt, and pepper.  On other nights, I might have added a rainbow of fresh peppers, but not tonight.  Hoping the grease won’t pop and burn my hand, I lift the bacon and place it on the paper towel to absorb the fat.

I love the sound of eggs poured into a hot pan.  It’s a unique sound that reminds me of breakfasts that my mom or my dad made for me all the years I lived at home.  I love how the eggs gradually thicken, puff up, and become light, fluffy, yellow clouds.  

As I sit down to eat my simple meal, I am grateful for the comfort 2 strips of bacon and a couple of eggs can bring.  



2 thoughts on “March 7, 2014

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