Hiya party people!
Once upon a time there was a short, chocolate, Muslimah Queen. She had many talents, including blank staring, doing impressions of herself and she even maintained a blog with a modest following. This Queen appreciated a challenge as much as the next person—so long as it didn’t interfere with or alter her daily routine in the slightest—but a challenge wouldn’t be a challenge if it didn’t…
The latest challenge in this Queen’s life was the addition of her eldery father-in-law to her household. She recognized it for what it was—a blessing AND a test. And she and her family adjusted accordingly. They fell into a rhythm. With the exception of breakfast.
The Queen had 4 children and a husband, the King, who was amazing 90.78% of the time (The other 9.22%? Well that’s a story for another time kiddies). She hadn’t the benefit of wait staff or ‘help’. Recession era. Even the royals felt it. But back to breakfast. It fell upon the Queen to prepare the morning meal for the King’s father. Breakfast had always been the Queen’s nemesis. It combined 2 things which she utterly despised—early mornings and doing things in the early morning.
She rarely ate breakfast and when she did it wasn’t ’til around 11ish. As for the royal crumbmakers, she would normally only give them breakfasts which could be tossed
at them to them as they headed to the car. Toast, granola bars, bananas, orange slices; if you could chuck it at a kid, that’s what they ate. Not so for the King’s father, a sweet silver-haired octogenarian with a twinkle to his eye. For him the Queen had to pull out all the stops, she used their best serving tray, the best dishes, if there was only one paper towel left on the roll—he got it with the best of the cutlery lovingly wrapped inside. Hey! Regarding the paper towel no judgement! Technically that’s heresy…
Ok where was I?
Oh yes, the breakfast. Bleary eyed and the egg-shell shocked (more than a few eggs have rolled off the counter to their death) the Queen would stand in the middle of the kitchen for 10 minutes just looking. And blinking. Eventually, the fruit got cut, the coffee percolating, the eggs plated and the hot cereal bowled. Each day the Queen tried to move a little faster, get started a little earlier, do something a little more efficiently; but try as she might the Queen could not shave down the breakfast routine time causing the children to be late to the Royal Academy, her to be late to her job (Recession!) and the King to be late to—Kinging. The Queen did 2 things, she issued an edict declaring all short order cooks (specifically those who worked the early AM shift) to be given a 50% raise. The second thing she did was put out a call for suggestions on streamlining her morning routine. Who will answer the call? Who will answer the call?