Sundays are Made of These

Posted by pat on Aug 25, 2009 in Life Tidbits | 5 comments

I wake from my dad’s incessant knock on the door. I check the clock and see “7:30″. I grumble. 7:30 am on a Sunday morning? Its just too early for anything. After a night of partying hard, or watching DVDs, or reading (when on nerd mode), I just want to sleep in on a Sunday morning.

Yet over the years, week after week, I find myself getting up at 7:30 on a Sunday morning. Its not my parents’ knocking on the door that gets me on my feet. Its something else. Its something in the air, a scent that flows into my room after they give up on waking me…. the scent of Sunday breakfast.

For as long as I can remember, Sunday breakfast has been a ritual in this house. Its something I look forward to and greatly enjoy. Its not just the food but the conversation that comes with it. Its usually the time of the week when everyone is home and eager to talk about the affairs of the past week. When i say everyone, that my parents, me, and my SIX other siblings (yes, for those who don’t know, I’m the eldest of SEVEN kids). So you can imagine how noisy it gets. Everyone wants to tell his/her story. No, sorry. Everyone COMPETES to tell his/her story. I just shake my head and watch the fiasco.

Oh yes, Sundays are made of these.

 

The Sunday Menu.

This menu hasn’t changed much over the years. For as long as I can remember, its always been this.. with variations from time to time. Its so good that no one has any plans of changing it.

1) Pancakes made from scratch
2) Home mode bacon which we order from my parents’ friend
3) Pork and beans
4) fruit
5) brewed coffee or green tea.

Who wouldn’t get up at the smell of fresh pancakes, bacon, and coffee brewing? Heck even with a bad hangover, I’d get up for this. If I happened to sleep over a friend’s house because it was just too late to go home, I’d make it a point to be early enough to be home for this…. even if I slept at 5am. Insane I know.

The week just ain’t complete without this.

After breakfast, we do some random chilling. This past Sunday, the agenda was “play with the poopie dogs”

 

And that’s my sister showing of her number one talent : sleeping anywhere (also she partied too much the night before)

So tell me, what are your Sundays made of?