Bad Karma

Unfortunately sometimes life gives us exactly what we deserve.
My mother has a number of hilarious quirks, many of which I've relentlessly teased her about over the years. I would list them all, but I'm worried she might not open the door when I show up at Christmas. She may not open the door anyway, but I fear divulging all of her secrets would only lessen my chances of good fortune.

Growing up my dad would always cook up a delicious Saturday morning breakfast for the six of us kids. Chocolate waffles, omelets, pancakes, various orange juice concoctions, etc. It was delicious! You may think that's really sweet, but he was really just buttering us up so he could subject us to slave labor in the yard and the garden the rest of the day.

My mom, however, never let her taste buds join in the sugary display of Saturday morning food. She's not a breakfast food person. While we were cutting into our Bisquick pancakes, my mom was over at the other end of the table gnawing on last night's pork chops. Tomato soup, steak, potatoes...Anything that's unconventional to eat before 5 pm, you could find it on my mom's breakfast menu. I used to laugh at her and tease her for being such a weirdee. I should have kept my mouth shut.

Bad karma I tell you.

Bad karma.

Today marks that fourth day that I've eaten dinner food for breakfast. I'm devastated about my fall from grace, but nothing else sounds good to me.

I'm going to be more careful about my teasing from now on. Boy this lasagna tastes good!