When the stars align…and eggs

 I was groping for the oatmeal box this morning, again, when I encountered an eye-popping thought. I had eggs, a piece of ham, and a nice little bowl of boiled potatoes right there in my kitchen all at once.

How often does that happen? Almost never. At least, not any more.

Once in a previous century ham, eggs, and fried potatoes were, duh, breakfast. And dinner was beef, more potatoes, and maybe a chunk of iceberg lettuce covered in Thousand Island. Those of us lucky enough to have survived it are now consigned to oatmeal.

Except this morning, which was grand.