
I face a test every morning.
It involves a finger prick and a reading. How’d I do with that late-night snack? My glucose monitor doesn’t lie. I know what to expect mornings after three bowls of Frosted Flakes the night before. I know what to expect when it’s been an English muffin and sun butter.
I try to start my mornings with a tall glass of water and stretching.
They replace a swig of Coke Zero and bleary-eyed checks of the mobile phone and blog comments. I crack eggs to eat over medium with a warm tortilla, or scrambled, wrapped in tortillas or mixed in with strips of corn tortilla, fried in olive oil.
Sometimes I’ll have a post-breakfast, pre-lunch, 9 a.m. snack at work. Don’t judge.
One morning, the non-stick frying pan and sprays of extra-virgin olive oil conspired to send me the message you see above. I showed it to Grace. I reminded her of the post she’s compiling of faces she finds in places often only kids can see them.
And I reminded us both there’s plenty of kid in dad still, too.
We don’t stop playing because we grow old, we grow old because we top playing. You, my friend, are not old yet. No faces in your tortilla yet?
Wise words, Eric. Once I get up in the morning, I don’t always feel old. As for tortillas – I swear I saw a depiction of Sarah Smith winking at me.
http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1222371/?ref_=rvi_nm
I can certainly think of worse images to see in a Tortilla. A Nova Scotian to boot! I usually don’t feel old until bedtime.
I don’t care what religion she is, Sparky – she’s dreamy.
The Ward quote is one of my favorites.
Attitude is everything!
Even when your breakfast pan doesn’t smile up at you, Mo.
I love to see the hints of your playful side come through and I love that quote too. Happy Sunday from Nebraska Eli.
Sometimes it feels like I should tone it down a little … I’m not a kid anymore. I’m glad sometimes I don’t have that kind of control.