Happy Mama Day!
Aw. William made me breakfast in bed this morning. He burned himself on the sausage, thus demonstrating his utter devotion to his mother, and his willingness to risk his life for her. (He would like to say that, in fact, there’s no way he’d risk his life for me. That’s my job. That’s why I get breakfast in bed. Because I would, in fact, risk my life for him. In a pinch, I’d ask his dad to do it. That’s why, on father’s day, he gets double breakfast in bed.)
Signing off for now, using William’s favorite phrase, “Burp you later, dude!”
Oh that is so sweet! What a wonderful son you have, dear Bloglily, which can only mean he had a wonderful mother to help shape him.
Have a lovely day and get spoiled rotten by the men in your life!
Nice breakfast, that egg looks just right. It’s obvious that a lot of love went into that. And I like the plate as well.
That’s a lovely looking breakfast. William has clearly learned a thing or two about presentation from his dear Mama! Would that be a Spode plate lurking under your breakfast?
It was delicious too, Charlotte. That plate is a fun one — it’s part of a set of blue willow diner plates. They were used in diners, and they’re called grill plates. They have separate sections — for the meat, the potatoes and the veg, I think!). I got them on ebay a long time ago. They were amazing cheap and we love them.
Edwin, you’re right. That’s a just right egg.
Thanks, litlove. You’re a dear.
First: Happy Mother’s Day Lily! You’re a star!
Second: That is one of the most beautifully, perfectly fried eggs I’ve ever seen. It’s making me so hungry for breakfast.
Third: I must track down those plates! I’m one of those picky adults that would still prefer that each part of her dinner stay on it’s side of the plate and not touch the other bits of dinner. I have to find these.
Hey Ann, I’m pretty sure the egg came courtesy of W, my husband, who knows his way around an egg and a frying pan. As for the grill plates, you go to ebay and search for “blue willow grill” or something like that. (They also come in green, plain, cowboy, abstract…. the grill plate was a big part of American diner life). You’ll find them. I can see, in fact, that you MUST find them, given the no-food-may-touch-any-other-food preference. Good luck, and let me know what happens, okay?:
So that’s how one gets breakfast in bed. Kids. Hmmm.
Happy belated Mother’s Day!
That looks yummy. How sweet! Hope you had a lovely day.
That’s a seriously impressive looking breakfast! Dudelet is a little way off that level of service. The carnivore in me is automatically wondering what sort of sausages they were.
William makes a very good point re: who should do the life-giving-up thing!
Wonderful breakfast you got there — I hope you had a wonderful day to match.
Looks like a nice wholesome breakfast! And, it is just wrong to read this post when I’m about to go to bed. I feel hungry again. Happy Mother’s Day, BL.
I’m guessing that dad did a good job on the supervision there (and the egg-making). Love that plate with the separate sections, and the fruit is a very nice healthy (and yummy) addition. Full marks for presentation too.
You weren’t there, were you Pete? Because, yes, that’s a dad-egg. William specializes in fruit cutting up. And he’s learning how to cook sausage without killing himself. All fine lessons for a man-to-be.
Hey Polaris, Thank you. Sorry about the going to bed hungry problem. You should make yourself a little egg when that occurs, you know.
Dear Marie, Yes, it came on a little card at the hospital, my job description. I didn’t get to the “must give up life for child” because I was fixated on the “must be okay being thrown up on” part. Of course, one is just an extension of the other, isn’t it?
U-Dad — Sausages? I’m going to guess they were your basic safeway, jimmy dean-ish, breakfast sausages, the kind that have nary a chicken, apple or herb in sight.
Thanks Dani! It was a lovely day.
Oh, I don’t know Mari, they are other routes to breakfast in bed than having kids. For example, one could declare a certain day every year Breakfast In Bed Day, and find a willing spouse, who’d get to have HIS own day with whatever he wanted… or something like that.
“Burp you later, dude,” is something I might have said to one of my children, back in day when burping our little dudes was part of the routine. I think it shows a paternal streak in William.
Belated Happy Mother’s Day! How lovely to get breakfast in bed. I honored my mother (gone many years now) by cooking something delicious for myself from her recipe box. It involved lamb and au gratin potatoes, two of her favorites! Many, many more happy mothers’ days to you. TJ
Hmmm…think it’s too late for me to have a son, so I could get a nice breakfast in bed like that? Say, “yes, it’s too late.” Unlike your three wonderful boys, any son I were to have would be a hellion, and we don’t need more of those in this world.
My feeling, Emily, is that breakfast in bed is actually the job of the husband (who hands it to the child who hands it to the mother). So, you can skip the middlekid, and just have it delivered by a grownup, who won’t jostle your egg.
TJ, What a great idea! And lamb & au gratin potatoes are so lovely in the spring.
Ben, The word burp is a house favorite.