My Daily Bread

The other morning I was in the usual process of making breakfast. Fresh out of the shower and all dolled up in my favorite deodorant, I strolled oh-so-smugly into the kitchen prepared to tackle what nutritionists have long labeled the "most important meal of the day". Such a repast typically consists of  foods purchased to remind me that I'm an adult and thus must eat boring food whenever possible to prove it. In this case, such blase comestibles might taste boring, but the absence of refined sugar in the cereal could only help my weight problem.

Now, such basic staples might seem healthy, but don't kid yourself. Sure, the cholesterol content seemed reasonably good. Antioxidents were surely lurking somewhere in the affair. The ham was superb -it was literally salt-free and glazed with brown sugar. The juice was wonderful for vitamin C.

And then there's the issue of toast.

One would think that two slices of toast might mean sufficient carbohydrates, if nothing else, for a few hours. In this case, it meant having to reset the smoke detector. Yep, prior to caffeine consumption I somehow bumped the browning setting on the toaster -something which became clear to me while I was approximately twenty-five feet away and brushing my teeth. In my home, the smoke detector is right outside the bathroom. It reminded me that it still worked while I was brushing along the gum line of my molars. In fact, it worked so well that when I jumped I accidentally brushed my epiglottis and my tonsils, too. Opening a window and changing my clothes which now smelled like a bakery after a four alarm fire was now at the top of my priority list.

Speaking of which, I considered the merits of donning an oxygen tank and goggles in order to safely navigate my way to the toaster which was now lost in a haze rivaling one of Los Angeles's finest smog clouds. I was prepared to "stop, drop, and roll" in the eventuality that the toast decided to flare up and spark my tee shirt. Fortunately enough, I was able to retrieve the once-proud slices.

Smoke has long been known to have food-flavoring abilities. I used this to my advantage while sitting down to my Sunbeam bread burnt toast-flavored oatmeal. Normally one might be tempted to use apple tree wood or mesquite to flavor one's food. I've discovered that carbon makes for a bitter flavor, which strangely enough jibes with the bland food at hand in ways which would make Wilford Brimley beam with pride. Besides, on my budget one doesn't discard toast just because it's coated with well-done carcinogens. No sir. One scrapes the top two layers off and he butters that sucker.

Guess where the scrapings ended up courtesy of caffeine deficiency-induced clumsiness? I will admit that the oatmeal looked rather exotic, lightly sprinkled with all of those bread crumbs. The contrast between the blackened bits and the tan oats made me want to devour the whole mess. Turns out that no amount of sugar or cinnamon could mask the bitterness of overcooked bread which now had all the food value of porcupine quills.

Knowing when defeat was at hand, I dropped both the contents of the bowl and the toast into the garbage disposal. (Budget? What budget?) Fortunately, several drive-throughs are within easy reach. For a small price, caffeinated drinks and hamburgers with perfectly-browned buns rescued me from my culinary skills.

By God's Grace, I'm able to eat in spite of myself.

Even if I have to hire a restaurant to furnish my daily bread.