The morning started off as any worthwhile Sunday should. A slow bleary eyed wake up, mumbled exchanges debating where to find a solid plate of bacon all finished off with the eating of said bacon and the drinking of a half a pot of coffee. A good morning, no? [...]]]> I have mixed feelings about today.

The morning started off as any worthwhile Sunday should. A slow bleary eyed wake up, mumbled exchanges debating where to find a solid plate of bacon all finished off with the eating of said bacon and the drinking of a half a pot of coffee. A good morning, no? Not bad at all. But this one was a little different, a little lonelier. Not because of lack of company, let it be known the company was stellar, but because of the happenings outside our cozy little breakfast.

You see this addiction to greasy spoon breakfasts on lazy Sunday mornings is a hereditary addiction, it comes from my mother and today, my mother moves out of the city. Yup, I’m a mommy’s girl, through and through. For the past 26 years we have lived in the same city. Although, I debated going to away to school and she sometimes drove me crazy enough to make me consider leaving the continent, it never happened, until now. I’m happy and excited for her and will enjoy the new adventure of living sans parental unit in the city, but I will miss our weekly trips to the market and our coveted greasy spoon breakfasts…