I love the idea of a big, hearty breakfast on Sunday mornings, although I don't always get around to making them. Yesterday morning though, Burt and I were up at the crack of dawn ready to get to work in the backyard and clear out a bunch of thorns and weeds and other miscellaneous junk that has been there since we moved into our house this past Fall.
I was not much looking forward to the yard work extravaganza and thought it would be nice to go out to breakfast first. I suggested Golden Corral and then Burt chuckled aloud about how every time we go there, I wait in the omelette line for about 30 minutes. It's sad, but true. It's the only reason I ever eat there. And usually someone cuts me in line or gets two omelettes at one time which really ticks me off, but I'm nice, so of course I don't say anything.