I remember, vividly, being thirteen. Gord, the boy, Haddock had given me an ID bracelet for my thirteenth birthday. It had my name on it but opened to a photo of him. It was awesome.
I was in the habit of meeting him before school in the morning. Preparing to look great at school was more important than eating breakfast. One morning, as I was rushing toward the door, after gulping down four ounces of fruit juice, my mother invited me to sit down with her for just a moment. I noticed she had set the old, painted kitchen table with two of her mother’s delicate china teacups. Mom had placed tiny parcels of food onto a two-tiered serving plate. She poured tea into both cups and gestured to the chair where she hoped I would sit.
I anxiously looked at the clock and then at the enthused, and expectant, expression on my mother’s face. She had taken time to prepare this breakfast. She was genuinely concerned about my eating habits. I took my place at the table. I sipped the tea and ate a tiny muffin, followed by a banana slice on a toast circle. I topped it off with a doughnut hole. My father had made doughnuts on the morning of my thirteenth birthday. That was the best gift ever!
Sipping tea and nibbling on small bites of food felt like an activity for adults. It became a routine. Sometimes, she placed a copy of a poem or a meaningful quotation near my teacup. Sometimes, I saved difficult questions for the morning, because I knew she would have time to listen. Always, I walked to school with a sense of things being as they should be, usually managing to arrive at school, early, looking my best, with ample time to visit with The Boy.
I still love to break the rules for breakfast. Recipes for some of my favourite breakfast bites are available From the Cookie Jar. Click on the ones you are interested in trying. Enjoy a morning visit with a loved one, in spite of being busy.
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