I'm at an age when I can treat lunch and dinner as necessities, not pleasures, eating as survival, but I can't yet give up the joy and pleasure of breakfast. The "Truckers Benedict" I had out the other day, my common "comfort breakfast" of scrapple and eggs on milk toast, to this morning's oatmeal topped with bacon and eggs, breakfast is an aesthetic, hedonistic way to begin the day. Long live breakfast!
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