French Toast Frank

I often used to make fancy breakfasts on the weekends. I'd say, "It's Saturday! I'll make omelets!" (Remember my omelet fascination?) Or I'd say, "It's Sunday! Let's turn on Christian Rock and make pancakes!" (Remember my Christian Rock fascination?)

Frank always ate these elaborate meals but he wasn't as enthused as I was. He'd ask, "Do you really think it's worth it? All the time you spend making it and cleaning it up?" I'd say emphatically that yes, it was worth it. Awesome breakfasts on the weekend are what life is all about. No more boring cereal or Pop Tarts. No, on the weekend we eat eggs and drink orange juice out of champagne glasses!

But somewhere along the way I stopped making fun weekend breakfasts. I don't know whether to blame the two little people who live here now or my stomach's issue with eggs. But Frank, who had been just short of opposed to the whole idea, now loves to make special breakfasts on the weekends. He has one recipe: Cinnamon French Toast.

He gets out the griddle, the bread, the eggs, the cinnamon and he gets to work. Oh, how good it smells! Oh, what a mess he makes! But it's all worth it, right? Because the whole family gets to gather around and enjoy the wonderful creation that is Frank's French Toast.

Um, no.

Here's how it really goes: Frank makes French toast and HE eats all of it. The kids don't actually like French Toast (except for Elmo's frozen French Toast sticks) and I shy away from it because of the eggs. So while Frank is enjoying his warm, delicious French toast we're all having a regular weekday breakfast: cereal, frozen pancakes, etc.

It gets worse. Frank not only makes this elaborate meal just for himself; he doesn't clean it up! So that griddle sits out on the counter pretty much all weekend, just taking up space with all its French Toast droppings.

Neither one of us will give in on the cleaning: me, because I'm trying to prove a point and Frank because he just doesn't care. Now if he would use the griddle to make pancakes, something the whole family can enjoy, I would gladly clean it up. Well, not gladly.

Anyway, that's really the whole story. Frank makes French toast every weekend (sometimes Saturday AND Sunday and why not? The griddle is still out there!) and he eats it and we don't.

One day I will be in charge of weekend breakfasts again and it will go back to OJ in champagne glasses and Christian Rock on the stereo. Maybe when the kids are old enough to help clean up the mess.