BREAKFAST was a little hectic the other day. It was a school day, but we gave Mommy a break. The Divine Mrs. M., God bless her, was sleeping in, and Daddy was spinning all the plates–literally and figuratively. Normally my wife is up at first light, gliding effortlessly like Donna Reed, dressing, brushing, and feeding the little ones, and getting them out the door with the grace of a ballerina, or at least a “Let’s Make A Deal” model pointing to a new set of Broyhill bedroom furniture.
No, wait, that’s not it at all. Let’s begin again. The Divine Mrs. M. was sleeping in, because she always sleeps in, because I do everything every day, because my beloved slumbers very deeply, like a lioness that’s been hit by a dart and tagged, and she can, on a good day, be roused only with the aid of a deck gun from the Bismarck. (We don’t have one, although I’m looking around on eBay.)
