I cook a lot and from time to time, I enjoy a break from it as much as anyone does. Saturday mornings are my favorite. Each morning during the week there is breakfast to make, kids to send out the door, and the business of managing the household before I can sit down to write. However, on Saturdays, the kids sleep-in, there is rarely a set schedule, and my sweet husband makes me breakfast. Ah, I love that! One meal I do not have to put any thought into.
I walk out of the office to scrambled eggs with green chilies sprinkled with cheddar or Parmesan, sausage, or bacon, sitting along side honeyed or fruit-topped toast. Of course, the added bonus is that along with breakfast comes a fresh cup of French press coffee—I even close my eyes to savor that first sip. Playing in the background is Indigo Girls Radio and the table is set with favorite condiments like salsa, horseradish, or more cheese. I am ravenous by this time because we eat earlier during the week when the schedule runs the day, so I make all kinds of appreciative sounds as I dig in.
This morning, he said, “So is this what it feels like?”
“What’s that?” I said.
“When you make something for someone and they really enjoy it—it feels good.”
“Yes, that’s it.”