A pretty standard weekend breakfast for me and my husband. Simple and delicious!
In the mornings as a child, my mom moved at break neck speed until she sat in the car. Inhaling long drags from her cigarette as the white Bonneville putted along to my cousin’s house, she would finally relax into her routine. With the shut of the car door, the tires slowly crunched gravel as she sputtered out of their drive.
By the time I got to my cousin’s house, my aunt had already left for work. Life had to have hard for our mothers, who were both single and working. My cousin and I were quintessential latchkey children with all of the pros and cons that came along with that sort of existence.
Luckily, my cousin only lived a few streets down from the middle school and high school. Most of grade school, we would walk together early in the morning. It was always a game with us, would…
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