Sunday Sunday

I normally wake up around 8 on Sundays, which is more than two hours later than I wake on a workday. I probably could fall back asleep, but then I start feeling guilty that Coconut is in her crate. After all, I got up three times during the night to use the bathroom, and she has been stuck in there with a full bladder for 8 hours. Poor puppy.

Once I'm up, I start craving coffee. It's rare that I finish a cup before it gets cold, but still. I need it. Within the half hour, my stomach starts to feel too empty, and I scour the cabinets. Usually I try to grab something easy. Alex likes cooking me breakfast, and so I just need something to hold me over until he wakes up around 11.

This is why some Sundays I eat two breakfasts.

Breakfast 1: cereal, or a muffin, or a couple cookies... This morning I got fancy and opened a package of breadstick dough, brushed it with melted butter, and sprinkled it with cinnamon-sugar. While the sticks were in the oven, I made a cream cheese glaze. I was motivated this morning.

Breakfast 2: Like I said, Alex likes to cook me breakfast. I'd be satisfied with an egg on a slice of toast, but the boy likes to eat. Cheese omlette, bacon, hash browns... if we have pancake mix, he'll probably wrap the whole thing up and then throw a blob of cream cheese on the top. Sounds nasty, but I have to admit it is pretty damn good. Definitely a Fat Man's Delight, but delicious.

Have I mentioned that since we started dating, the two of us have collectively gained, oh, I'd say about 60 pounds? Not a surprise.