Bacon Love

I love bacon. I love the boy. Sometimes, these are related thoughts. Today, however, was just kind of a breakfast disaster from the get-go. We were fine - and we met at our regular breakfast/brunch spot - but as he said, "It's like all the employees have cotton in their ears, or are high!"

We were both a little out of sorts this morning - both tired, both worried about various things, "severally and together" as he is fond of saying - and it was all just kind of a cluster, other than the company. He got his favorite biscuit product (overcooked but still, "good enough not to complain" as he described it) and I asked for what should have been a very simple order: two eggs, scrambled, with toast instead of an English Muffin and grits instead of potatoes, plus bacon. What I first got was the dish with the EM and ridiculously overcooked bacon. Like potato-chip crunchy. When a server finally came by to see how things were, I asked if I could have the (white) toast I'd requested, and mentioned that the bacon (note- it was also one and a half pieces not the usual 2-3 serving) was too crunchy. A few minutes later, I got a plate of (wheat) toast then another few minutes later I got a new plate of bacon: "this is even more crunchy and crispy for you, since the first wasn't enough." Paging Homer Simpson . . ."doh!"

The boy and I just looked at each other and shrugged. He tried a bite of my extra-crunchy bacon, and ate most of his sandwich. I picked at my eggs. We talked. Sometimes, food is a disappointment - or just basic nourishment, not a revelation - and this morning was definitely that, except for the one thing that makes any meal ok: the company.

Looking forward to a better meal with my favorite boy, later.

PS- Next time, they better not overcook my bacon . . . just sayin' . . .
Yours,
Love Bites,
Carrie Neal