My bi-weekly blog posts have sort of fallen to the wayside lately. Mostly because I’m trying to edit my book (and by edit, I mean basically re-write the whole thing so I’m not embarrassed to send it out for some real editing), but also because things keep coming up. Things I could probably give up so I could focus more on writing, except I don’t want to.
Like my weekly breakfast group. There’s four of us who’ve been meeting for breakfast once a week for years now. In fact, when we started our babies looked like this:
and we would take them to story time at the library after our cinnamon rolls.
Now they get story time at school (or not. Who knows?) and we get to eat and have conversations that don’t include the words, “please stop rolling around on the floor.”
Except when we are ROFLing. Which sometimes happens.
There are a few others who come when they can, but the four of us work our schedules around breakfast, not the other way around.
And you know what? We’re not the only group of ladies who do this. Lately when we’ve met for bagels at our new regular breakfast location, we’ve had to fight the Tuesday Yentas for a table. I mean, we do it very politely even though the Yentas all look to be about 80 years old and we could probably kick their …
But those old ladies have a little bit of an attitude. Like, because they’re old and wear matching lime green polo’s that say Tuesday Yentas on them, somehow their breakfast group is more legit than ours. So I suggested we come up with our own name and get our own t-shirts. Maybe in hot pink to really show them up.
We tried to think of a name that would evoke who we are in much the same way the Yentas have. Something that said, “hey we’re Mormon sisters who like to eat bagels and other breakfast foods together,” but in fewer words. But really, how can a people who haven’t even come up with a good title for that monthly mid-week Relief Society meeting compete with Yiddish?
So I suggested the name Breakfast Bitchers. Because, really, that’s what our breakfasts are all about. Not every time, of course. Sometimes we have some pretty spiritual discussions like this one or funny conversations about whether to name a baby Kegel.
But most of our chats revolve around getting all our frustrations out and being able to say to each other, “you’re child/spouse/pet does that too?” Or even, “oh no s/he/it didn’t!” and feeling like 1) we’re not alone and/or 2) there’s someone who’s having a worse day than me.
Without fail, though, I always feel full after breakfast. And not just with carbs.
The other girls vetoed my t-shirt idea, so I’ won’t be sharing pictures of us wearing them. But, I’ve been thinking for a while now that my readers ought to get filled up on Tuesdays too. Even if it’s just with a good laugh.
So, starting next week I’ll be writing a new segment called Conversations at Breakfast. I can’t guarantee it will happen every week, but when there’s something good to share, I’ll be sharing it.
Like the story of how Paula got a new sister-in-law. From China.
That’s one you’re not gonna want to miss, so stay tuned.