Last thing at night …

(well maybe not the very last thing), I think: yippee! It’s almost time for breakfast!

And then it’s morning and almost time and then it is time and then it’s luxuriating and exclaiming and tasting and then…

It’s over.

Darn. Winnie the Pooh says that the moment before he sticks his hand in the honey jar is better than the hand in the jar. But that’s not true for me, not for breakfast. It’s just as good eating it as it is thinking about eating it.

If anyone had asked me, I would have voted for more breakfast time. Or for second breakfast, as the Hobbits had. But it would still eventually end and here we are.

Having what we have in the very second we have it. Not missing one moment. That’s the best I can do, I figure. That and remembering that breakfast will come again very soon and isn’t that grand. And then it’s morning and almost time and then it is time and then it’s luxuriating and exclaiming and tasting and then…

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