A Breakfast To Die For

I glanced at the wall clock. It was almost nine and on a Sunday, this was my favorite time. Breakfast time! One quick look into the kitchen assured me that I had my favorite stuff on the menu. Pancakes, bread toasts with jam and butter and eggs. I just loved it and now all I had to do was wait for it to be served.

As I waited for someone from the kitchen to bring out the breakfast, I saw grandpa walk into the room and settle on his rocking chair eagerly reading the newspaper. Whats he reading by the way! At least do away with the politics and current affairs. Its Sunday for god's sake! Check the sports section please!!

Enter Chinu. He is the youngest member of the house. A very lovable kid and doesn't mind me sharing his food. Nor does anyone else in the family. That's why I love these guys so much. I can have all that I like and no one complains except for occasional stern wave of hand to keep me from taking more than I need.

I hear a voice from the kitchen "Breakfast's ready". Oh yea! So am I. Bring it on. I am starving already. Soon all gathered at the table with Chinu on my right and parents taking the opposite seats. Grandpa was still rocking on his chair. He would join later, I guessed and started with the first dish set on the table. Pardon my manners, but that's just me. I wasn't going to wait for others to settle down, take pancake and eggs in their plates and eat as if they had all the time in the world. I went straight for the dishes on the table. The breakfast was truly heaven like with all the best things in the world served out to me.

While I was busy with the food, I did not notice grandpa join us at the table, and went for the pancake kept for him. That must have annoyed him. He waved at me and I steered clear. Why mess with him on such a lovely day? The breakfast carried on for a while with all the jokes and laughter. Sunday mornings were really great with family. While I was still busy making more rounds for my favorite stuff, I just happened to look at grandpa from the corner of my eye. He had been following my movements very closely and before I could make out what was on his mind, he swung out the fly-swatter and splat! Leaving no time to stretch my wings and buzz off to safety, he slammed down a hard blow onto me. Escape was near impossible.

"Nasty insect" were the last words I heard. While grandpa must have been proud of his reflexes, I had paid my price to taste, what I would call, lets just say, a breakfast to die for!