The Daily Breakfast Debacle

One would think that a Peace Corps volunteer would have much more pressing issues to confront than breakfast. Yet daily, my largest hurdle is breakfast. Foolishly I thought that I had convinced my host-mom that I was going to prepare my own breakfast. Maybe I misunderstood something when she said, “Oh yeah, that’s fine,” after I explained that I would cook breakfast for myself. Every single day I wake up thinking that she’ll finally get it. I wake up thinking how nice it will be to eat what I want, meaning something that won’t cause an imminent heart attack. And every morn I crack open my door to my mother’s smiling face telling me that, yes indeed, breakfast is a-ready-and-waitin’. The thing is everyday I have what I consider to be a serious conversation about preparing my own breakfast. And she always seems to comprehend. As I see it now we are beginning to slip into a passive-aggressive battle over who will prepare my breakfast. Yesterday, I managed to make it to the table and eat before she spotted me. All hopes of victory were quickly dashed when she served me another plate of food. Yep, two breakfasts. This morning I ended up eating hot chocolate and cookies.