The Breakfast of Champions

It's official. I'm currently on a toast kick. I guess I should be thankful; there are many worse things that I could be consuming a lot of. Cheesecake, nachos, candy bars...you get the idea. So toast really isn't all that bad.

When I really want a piece of toast, not just any bread will do. It must be Fransisco French Bread. This is the toast that I was raised on; this was my Grandma's toast. I'd never make a sandwich on this bread, it's not nearly soft and squishy enough, but it does make a mean slice of toast.

With all of this in mind, while I was making breakfast this morning I found myself thinking about my grandparents. It's probably natural; I always seem to miss them more around the holidays. Even thought it's been a number of years since I lost them, sometimes if feels like just yesterday. I'm sad that my kids didn't get to know my Granddad, and that they won't remember my Grandma before she developed dementia. It breaks my heart. But it is what it is I guess; the circle of life and all. I am happy, though, that there are little things that remind me of them. Today it was breakfast.

Grandma, I lift my piece of toast to you. Granddad, I left a few crumbs in the butter tin just like you always did. I love you both so very much. Nothing is the same without you.