I’ll wake up, blow snots from my nose and wipe them from my eyes. The coffee will noisily percolate as I mumble wishes and hopes for my hyperactive dog’s behavior. My tired arm will struggle to exert enough pull on the refrigerator door, and my morning will change.
I have scrapple, jumbo eggs from a local farm, English muffins (well, English-American from what the manufacturing label indicates), and all the time to carefully crisp the scrapple in an iron pan.
I don’t know what you guys are doing tomorrow morning, but if it doesn’t involve scrapple then I have you beat by a tasty mile.