The Morning I Regretted Making Breakfast

As it was Fionnuala’s birthday the other day, I bounced down the stairs and grandly announced I was going to make breakfast for everyone. I zoomed off to the village shop, returning with bacon, sausages and fresh bread. Throwing them onto the grille, I began to probe the Black clan for orders as they blearily emerged from under duvet covers. Everything was going swimmingly. Or so I thought.

Fionnuala queried what type of bread I had purchased. If it was a pan loaf, she wanted it toasted, but untoasted if a plain loaf. Lightly buttered, bacon and sausage. Sorted. Hannah wanted sausage, not bacon, while Rebecca wanted bacon as opposed to sausage. Even though the former likes bacon on her burgers and the latter sausages in her hot dog. Er….right.

My head was already starting to spin and the anxiety levels rising as Adam emerged from his lair. He wanted bacon on plain bread. Or was it sausage on toast? I looked despairingly at Charlie the border terrier who sat patiently at my feet awaiting his sausage. Bacon? Either way, his dog food would sit uneaten while there were tastier treats on offer from his human masters.

Had there been vegetarians or vegans in the house, I fear my brain would have imploded. I slaved over the breakfast counter, sweat lashing from my brow, muttering under my breath, while simultaneously ensuring all and sundry that everything was under control and I was ‘just fine.’ There was nothing could tip me over the edge. I was on the brink of a culinary conquest of epic proportions.

Until I asked Fionnuala if she wanted a cup of tea. Why, yes she did. Not too weak and not too strong. With milk. No sugar. Oh and when it’s made, can you top it up with cold water? Which necessitated making the tea, then pouring half of it down the sink again. My mind was well and truly boggled. I eventually slumped into an armchair, mission accomplished but utterly exhausted.

I eat most things. Apart from Brussel Sprouts, don’t get me started on them. And beetroot. But I now understood how frustrated Fionnuala would get when she compared making dinner in our house to working in a hotel, cooking five different dishes at a time. Why couldn’t we all eat the same thing? Spoilt rotten we were. I can only now nod in agreement at the varied palates of the Black household.

We are all very different people, with eclectic tastes and preferences when it comes to most matters. Yet, we are all part of the one family and somehow, despite all said differences, we somehow make it work. We are one. A largely functioning one, despite all the hiccups and glitches along the way. We can’t choose our family, unlike our friends. So we have to make it work, knuckle down, and get on with it.

It’s all about compromise. Compromise and a generous topping of patience. We adapt, we agree to disagree, we give and take. Yet the central core remains intact, the bond that holds it all together. Love is the glue. A love which forms the cornerstone of this crazy, chaotic household. Although it might be a while before I volunteer to cook breakfast again. I think I need a lie down after all that.

Sausage? Bacon? Veggie? How divided is your household when it comes to breakfast?

Published by Fractured Faith Blog

We are Stephen and Fionnuala and this is our story. We live in Northern Ireland, have been married for 15 years and have three kids - Adam, Hannah and Rebecca. We hope that our story will inspire and encourage others. We have walked a rocky road yet here we are today, together and stronger than ever. We are far from perfect and our faith has been battered and bruised. But an untested faith is a pointless faith. Just as a fractured faith is better than none at all. We hope you enjoy the blog.

65 thoughts on “The Morning I Regretted Making Breakfast

  1. I live in a flat and we don’t really eat together. I don’t tend to do breakfast. If I did it would be something like yogurt and cereal. I try not to eat too much fried food as heart disease runs in my family.

    Regarding your breakfast attempt maybe next time write everything down?

    Like

  2. This was hilarious! Now you know how most women feel on a daily basis. Quite exhausting ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚ i eat turkey bacon and i don’t have children so when i cook my fiance’ gets what i cook. When he cooks its whatever i want, lol! Im spoiled. Atleast you made it! Good job, lol! This was a great thing to wake up and read! Thank you ๐Ÿค—

    Like

  3. I long ago told all my kids that they will eat what I make for dinner. We do, occasionally, take orders for meals; and all is as complicated as you said. ๐Ÿ™‚ Make a list next time, Mr. Maรฎtre d’?

    Like

  4. The good news is my wife and I are on the same sheet of music for breakfast. But the dogs normally get half of it and sometimes they tend to be a little picky. We finally solved that by instituting the “Burger King” law. You get it out way, or you don’t get it at all.

    Like

  5. You must have an amazing wife!!! I am super old school at our house. Iโ€™m sure we all have our preferences, but I always say, โ€œEat whatโ€™s on your plate or youโ€™re not hungry enough…โ€ Once they literally gag, then I may step in with another option like toast. My family has gotten used to my ways and rarely complains, but they all hate soup (which I love, so I make it anyways) Like I said, arenโ€™t you thankful for your wife?!?

    Like

  6. Funny. Sounds somewhat like my house, but I usually make it and let everyone serve themselves. When it comes to breakfast, we all pretty much like the same things. We are not big breakfast eaters, but sometimes we do breakfast for supper.

    Like

  7. Ha, sounds like my house! Shae and I eat similarly, but everyone else eats quite differently. On weekdays, everyone makes his or her own breakfast. Even the littlest makes his own toast. But on Saturdays, I take special orders, and we get “fancy.” ๐Ÿ˜Š Congrats to you for the valiant effort. My husband makes the most brilliant, creamy scrambled eggs on occasion.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Each of us in our house makes our own breakfast. I usually have a bowl of cereal with milk and a liter of tea. My wife has half a liter of strong coffee (black, unsweetened) and either leftovers or a quesadilla. My son, when he is home from college, usually has a bowl of fruit (prepared by my wife) and a glass of soy milk.

    Like

  9. Since I live near the highest production of brussels sprouts in the world, I have access to very fresh ones. If they are fresh and lightly steamed, they are delicious. If they are old and overcooked (as my English mom used to make them), then not really worth eating.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. As a child I hated Brussels sprouts, but as an adult when I did my own cooking I re-tried all the things I thought I disliked and I discovered that I like almost everything if it’s made right, and if it’s made wrong I can often save it with the right spices or salad dressing or burying it with other things.

      Liked by 1 person

  10. I recommend one giant sausage-bacon-anchovy-scrambled egg Pizza brought by a man disguised as Santa Claus or Superman, and this one object to be shared with tea & crumpets or is it trumpets (a fanfare would be good to give the flavor of acceptability. Also, it would help to have a chap known as a renown food critic to stand-by to take the first bite (he would’ve been already bribed to give a positive review). He would shame them into assuming it would taste good, and it would reinforce the positive feelings they already have about sausage and bacon in other contexts.

    Like

  11. Always love your posts, don’t always take the time to comment but they are so well-written and make me interested in all of the trivial things. I’m a vegetarian and eat cookies in front of the computer, my husband is a carnivore who cooks a full breakfast for 30-45mn. We make it work ๐Ÿ™‚

    Like

  12. I want to share with you the story of how this post came to mean so much to me and how I am taking your story and sharing it with my family. I came to this post as I was readying my girls for school. Truth, I didn’t have time to spend but I felt drawn to reading your story and so I spared the moment to read your truth.

    And I found myself so glad that I did. For you very articulately described the very stress and anxiety I live every day while trying to attend to the various needs and preferences of a family full of picky people. You connected spot on with a very real issue I contend with every day. Feeling that connection, feeling that mutual understanding for the battle we face gave me unexpressable joy. I was over the moon with happy reading your story.

    So happy that I stopped midway through and start talking to my daughter about your post. I was going on about how nice it was to hear your understanding and awareness of life’s difficulties. I told her how cold and empty Facebook always was and how I was always looking to connect but never finding any content. And then I told her how I found your blog and how you were making your way into my life a little at a time. I started retelling your story, relating to her how I connected to the story. I expressed my deep gratitude for being able to connect on this level. Whatever my words ended up being moved her to want to read your story too! Unfortunately we were short on time and the bus was only moments away. But something to look forward to.

    Thank you for this beautiful moment. I adored experiencing it. Thank you for taking the time to detail the struggle you endured for the love of your family. It is one I know well and appreciate others who carry the same weight.

    Much love and hope for good times and blessings of prosperity to come!

    Like

    1. Thank you very much. WordPress is a great place to connect with people. I also much prefer it to Facebook, Twitter etc. I hope you keep reading the blog and getting something out of it. Iโ€™m very grateful for your support and kind words.

      Like

  13. I grew up in a house with the adage: you get what you get and you don’t throw a fit. No one was cooking four separate breakfasts, but we did get asked how we liked our eggs. That was about as customized as our breakfasts were ๐Ÿ™‚ Now, as an adult with a 15 year old son, we don’t do breakfast together very often. He usually eats breakfast at school and I usually bring my oats with me to eat at work. When we do eat breakfast together, it’s usually pancakes or biscuits and gravy because we don’t eat either of those things very often, so when we do, we enjoy it together.

    Liked by 1 person

          1. Ohhh! So I suppose our biscuits would be similar to a dinner roll for you…or kind of like a bap, but thatโ€™s Scottish. Is there an Irish equivalent of a bap?

            Like

  14. My family was also brought up on the idea that what is prepared for one is prepared for all and we thank the Lord and swallow it down! But now that my children are grown and (almost) out of the house, I find myself to be in the same pickle. Adult kids are far pickier than wee ones! (And adult adults’ constitutions are far pickier than before!) But we love each other dearly. Wonderful post and kudos to you! My dh will not even order at the drive-thru if any of us are in the car! You are a hero.

    (Western omelets with optional cheese grits and bacon–not rashers–in the US South.)

    Like

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: