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By JD Date: 2004 Nov 09 Comment on this Work [[2004.11.09.23.48.32048]] |
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I woke up today with the intention of making you breakfast. Sunny-side up with a pinch of pepper and basil, right? I put on a new apron that I bought from the Martha Stewart Prison Gift Shop (ha!). It's pink. You know how I despise that colour. But Martha doesn't do black. And while the eggs slowly solidified in my new skillet, I write you a note. A poem about how much I love breakfast. And as an afterthought, how much I love you. Breakfast isn't breakfast without eggs and prose. I hear your footsteps pounding down the heavily carpeted stairs and I anticipate the smell of aftershave and gel and fresh laundry rolled into man. And to my surprise, a voice behind me says, "Honey, I like scrambled eggs, remember?" Oh shit. I forgot. I'm not cooking for you anymore. |