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Agriculture.com Staff 02/06/2016 @ 7:25am

Lately, I've found breakfast a little less than fascinating.

Do you think I'm being demanding? I don't think so.

Here's the deal. The problem I'm having with breakfast is, for one thing, it happens at 6:00 a.m. and for another, it involves cold cereal and microwaved coffee. When you see a guy having breakfast in the movies, he’s usually sitting around a cheery kitchen table eating stacks of pancakes as the birds chirp and flowers bloom directly outside the window.

I've enjoyed a few breakfasts like that, but the typical situation is that it's still dark out, I've forgotten to put the coffee on, the only breakfast food on the shelf is a box of cereal I got on sale, and trust me, there ain't nobody chirping.

I'm having trouble getting people to share my concerns and I'm getting zero sympathy. A common response is, "If you don't like your breakfast, why don't you make something else?"

Yeah, like that'll work. I'm not at my best when I roll out of bed, and over the years I've decided that close proximity to open flames and/or toasters is not in my best interest, at least not until my eyes are all the way open.

Anyway, this week I was tired of staring across the kitchen table at the box of generic toasty...somethings...when salvation arrived in the UPS truck. About a month ago, I taught some writing classes at a middle school. I pretty much figured I'd be doing it for free, since schools don't have much money.

My family's been pushing me to come up with some sort of program for trial lawyers or plastic surgeons so I could request a slightly larger fee, but so far I've been drawing a blank. The last time I spoke to a group of doctors, I warmed up the crowd by telling them I was on the board of directors of a hospital for 12 years so I hated doctors. They never asked me back. To top it off, the groups I'm most comfortable speaking to are churches and schools -- two big buck constituencies.

Anyway, I'd taught the classes just because I enjoy it, but then, lo and behold, a box arrived in the mail -- not from the school, but from the schoolteacher, who should have used the money to pay off her student loans.

The package was full of exotic British breakfast items -- well, exotic to me. I had crumpets for breakfast the first day, followed by scones and then two kinds of English muffins, spread with tart cherry preserves. It helped me understand why the British were so good at that whole empire thing. Cheerios at dawn don't do much for your ambition, but get a few crumpets under your belt and you're ready to take on the Kaiser.

It's all good stuff and just may have saved my life. Cold cereal at six o'clock on a December morning in Minnesota is just plain hazardous to your health, or at least your sanity.

Crumpet, anyone?

Copyright 2006 Brent Olson

Lately, I've found breakfast a little less than fascinating.

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