There is one day a year where I get to be awoken early and served a breakfast of runny eggs and burnt toast and love every minute of it. This is a tradition around the Michael's household every Fathers Day morning. Not sure if this was the case with my own Dad growing up but for some reason my kids have done this for me as far back as I remember.
The morning starts early as I hear commotion and talking and pans bang around in the kitchen. As I wake a smile comes to my face as I realize that once again I get treated to breakfast in bed. I remain still as if I were sleeping but am awake of course and hear just about everything coming from the kitchen. There is fussing about who gets to cook what, who is carrying what, did you get your card finished and tensions seem a bit high for that early. Then the familiar quiet and shhhhushing that happens as they approach the stairs and begin the accent to my bedroom. Glasses and plates clanging, orange juice spilling, whispered fussing all the way up. Then as they all gather at the door and peak in I stay still. The light comes on and here it comes.. scrambled eggs that don't quite seem done.. toast that is cold and burnt, the homemade cards and the fussing has turned to smiles.
Of course I am sooo surprised!
Life is at it's best right here. Runny eggs and all. For a moment I am a king!
Happy Fathers Day to all the dads. Here's to breakfast served with a lot of love. Sean
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