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When I was a kid, my dad worked "in the city"--New York City. I thought it was so cool that he would get up very early, shave, put on freshly pressed clothes, put together his briefcase, and step into his car. I always imagined him having a sleek office, with a little old lady for a secretary, tracking down leads and catching criminals. I don't know my dad actually did, but I know he was gone a lot, so when he was home it was super special.
Most mornings we were rushing off to school and only had a Pop Tart or a bowl of Kix. Sunday mornings were our time with our dad. We would all sleep in but when we heard our dad shuffling across the carpet in his slippers, we knew he was headed for the kitchen--and that meant brunch! Homefries, bacon, eggs, pancakes, hot chocolate, coffee, and enough ketchup, syrup, and cheese to drown everything in! We almost floated down the stairs on the lovely fragrance! It was glorious!
Now that we are settled into our new city, I've been back to having brunch time again. My youngest is no longer an infant, so he's able to enjoy a wider variety of food. My daughter enjoys trying new recipes and ingredients. My husband bought a crepe machine and has enjoyed experimenting with fillings. And our family in general, loves to host and celebrate. We look forward to the day again, after our world returns to normal, when we can share our favorite meal with our favorite people. Thank you, Dad, for the memories!
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