Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Waiting on Breakfast


Yesterday I waited and waited and waited for my sisters to be ready to go to breakfast. I waited so long it turned to lunch and I made myself food. My sisters did not inherit my timeliness gene.

But eventually they did show up, ready to eat. And although I wasn't hungry, I was dressed and my kids were dressed and we had nothing else planned, us Weavers.  It was, after all, the fifth day of an impromptu winter break. So off we went for a noon thirty breakfast at a place no longer serving breakfast. But I drank lots of coffee anyway. And we sat and sat and sat. And as I looked around at my kids and my husband, my mom and my sisters, I realized it was worth the wait.

Sometimes I'm restless, but I know that I'm not going anywhere. Because if I went somewhere else, I wouldn't have so many people to wait on.




If you would like to join a rather elite group, one which basically only consists of people sitting at the table pictured above, you should go over to Apartment Therapy's Homie Awards and vote for this little space and all the other little spaces you love to visit. 

1 comment:

  1. I love this. I'm that person--the one who's ready to go, waiting anxiously (and not-so-patiently) to get going. As irritated as I can get, though, it's always worth the wait. Without fail, I'd rather be late with the people I love than anywhere on-time and alone.

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