Every morning, I have a ritual. I suppose we all do, and you should tell me yours. Unless we have company, mine goes pretty much like this ... bleary-eyed and hair all looking amazingly Einsteinish - and not in a good way - I trip down the hall to the kitchen and put on the kettle for tea. I stand at the counter, look across the room to the weather outside, blink to jump-start the focus and register "sun," "rain," or whatnot. Breakfast when I'm dieting is eggs, when I'm not .. it's cheerios or something of the sort. Either way, I stand at the island while I eat and peruse the morning paper.
Bruce reads the newsy parts ...I can always tell when the morning was particularly easy going for him by how many pages have been pulled out, refolded and are left scattered about the surface of the island. I read the juicier bits .. the advice and gossip columns, the horoscope, the comics .. Zits is my favorite .. then I pick up a pen and settle in to battle the Sudoku while I leave the crossword for Bruce. This particular page of the paper gets left on the counter all day until we either give up (around dinnertime) or we reign victorious for yet another day.
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