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I usually get up early and spend an hour either writing or correcting papers for the economics class I teach online outside of my regular day job. On Saturdays and Sundays I sleep later but am usually up a good two hours or more before my wife who likes to sleep in on weekends.

I have always been one to sit down and eat a regular breakfast (usually fruit, cereal coffee or tea and possibly toast) in the morning (as children my mother never let us out of the house without breakfast) before starting my day. On weekends I usually get up, start the coffee and, after dressing, get a cup of coffee and possibly a piece of toast, then sit down to write until my wife wakes up, at which time I prepare breakfast for the two of us – often making omelets, French toast or other breakfast fare that involves more than simply pouring cereal from a box. I then bring her breakfast into the bedroom and serve her on a tray designed for eating in bed (she loves it, while I hate eating in bed) and then return with my share on a lap tray. I pull up a chair next to the bed and we have a nice leisurely breakfast together.

However, there are some weekend mornings when this routine changes for one reason or another and that is when we have, what I have come to refer to as a “Russian Style” breakfast. You see, my wife is from Russia and when I spent a couple of weeks in Russia visiting her before she came to the U.S. and married me, I never knew what she would set before me on the table for breakfast. One morning it was canned chicken livers mixed with canned peas. Other mornings the food was different but, to me, equally unusual. I finally asked her what exactly did Russians eat for breakfast and her reply was “whatever is in the kitchen”. While I found this a bit unusual, when I came back and told my sons they thought it made great sense and promptly went to the refrigerator where they retrieved what was left from our Friday night pizza and proceeded to eat their breakfast.

Well, as I said above, this Saturday morning appears to be one of those days. It has been a long and tiring week so I slept later than usual but was still the first one up. When the coffee was ready I got myself a cup of coffee and a slice of pumpkin bread my wife had made earlier in the week. I figured I had another 30 – 45 minutes to work until my wife awoke and the coffee and bread was intended to hold me over until that time. However, upon returning to my computer in our bedroom I discovered my wife sitting up in bed. Seeing the coffee and pumpkin bread in my hands she decided that she wanted the same. So I returned to the kitchen and returned with a cup of coffee and slice of pumpkin bread for her. Taking it from me, she decided that this was all she needed for breakfast today.

My coffee and piece of pumpkin bread, as planned, staved off my hunger pangs while I wrote this article. Now, if I can publish it quickly I can get to the refrigerator and grab last night's leftover pizza for my breakfast before my sons wake up and beat me to it. Cold pizza is not what my Mother would consider to be a good breakfast, but it sure beats canned chicken livers mixed with canned peas.

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