Mom (She moved in with us last summer.) and I are sitting in the living room. She is having a breakfast of two fried eggs, two slices of bacon, a half slice of toast and a cup of Taster's Choice instant coffee. She likes it better than brewed.
As I was making her breakfast I wondered how many years ago it was that she taught me to fry an egg. I remember it was on an electric stove (Seems like it was a Hot Point.) with push buttons instead of knobs. Number three was the right button to push.
Mom always kept a pint fruit jar of bacon grease in the door of the fridge (a Cold Spot) to cook with and showed me how to use a little when frying an egg. I think it is cool that for the last few weeks, we have kept a little jar of bacon grease that I use to fry her eggs with now. Mom's doctor wants her to gain weight so the bacon and grease seem like a good idea.
As I'm remembering, it strikes me that once in a while mom seems to remember a little too.
It's a great morning.
Because . . .
1 day ago