Out of all of the days in the week, Sunday is my favourite.
It’s the one day of the week that we are all definitely together. Matty usually
works six days a week and Sunday is a nice reprieve to the daily grind for both
of us. Early on this particular Sunday morning I curled back into our warm bed after feeding
Vinnie and drifted back to sleep. It must have only been for ten or maybe
fifteen minutes before she started to make some protesting cries from her
bassinette. Sleep drowsy, I rolled around and took some deep breaths to re-energise
myself before jumping back out of bed, but he beat me to her. With Vinnie in his
arms, he leant down and planted a fuzzy warm kiss on my forehead and
disappeared out of our room. I must have slept for an extra hour. In a foggy
state I followed the smell of breakfast wafting in from outside. Matty was
outside on our front deck cooking up our breakfast on the barbeque. I saw
Vinnie playfully sitting in her bouncy chair snuggled up in a grey woollen
blanket and there was Paddy crouching on the lounge and coiled up in a furry
brown throw. He looked like a delicious cinnamon bun.
The smell of breakfast materialised on a large white
rectangular plate. Bacon, eggs, tomatoes, onions and grilled Turkish breads all
lay out in the shadows of tall standing condiments; tomato sauce, barbeque
sauce, Kewpie mayo and sweet chilli sauce. In our PJ’s we sat at the table and
started the construction of our breakfast burgers. The boys like mayo and
barbeque sauce splashed across their tower of bacon, eggs and cooked onion. I
like plain old barbeque sauce, bacon and eggs with a sprinkling of tasty
cheese. Sometimes I add a squeeze of
sweet chilli sauce, but not today.
Matty enjoys making his coffee at home and usually, we push
the little black button on the yellow Bugatti to warm up while we tidy up after
breakfast. At first, we disliked our coffee machine. It was the source of
frustration and disappointment. Neither of us could get it right. We imagined dark
brown honeycombed crema topped with silky milk, but our coffee always looked
murky or the steamed milk was too bubbly and burnt. Since then, our skills have
improved enough to enjoyably get us through the dark mid-week mornings. So when
a dear friend of ours opened a café and creative space across the lake from us, our
Bugatti was also given reprieve from the daily grind and lately we have been
making our way over there to finish our Sunday breakfast and welcome in the new
week with several of his amazing coffees.
