Some people call breakfast after noon ‘brunch’ which makes it sound fancier than the reality of a late breakfast. Today our reality is we slept late, it is icy and cold which is weird in our part of Texas, and pajamas are our finery. Sir decided he was feeling motivated to cook so he made everyone ‘brunch.’
There we all are in our pjs eating ‘popped fresh from the can’ biscuits, sausage patties, and scrambled eggs while enjoying our lazy day. Here is a bit of our ‘high brow’ conversation.
Sir: How are the eggs?
(The eggs are an unnatural shade of blackened)
Me: I love that you made them. (hopeful grin)
JBird: Eggs are chicken babies.
Me: Technically, no not until they are zygotes. But gross, let’s move on…
Elle: So, eggs are chicken periods?
Me: (no longer trying to eat the eggs) Uhg!
Todd: The word is ‘menses’, eggs would be chicken menses.
Me: Stop, let’s just stop this train. (Turning green, sort of like the eggs)
Baby Butch: A period is a perfectly natural thing, Mom, nothing to be embarrassed about.
Elle: Right? Don’t be sexist, Mom!
Todd: Yeah. So, how are the eggs?