Easy like Sunday morning

On Saturday I get to lie in, while on Sunday morning Ethan and I hang out while Rachel and God take a well-earned rest. This Sunday took us to the Bread & Ink Café for breakfast; it's a little upscale compared to its more popular neighbour the Cup & Saucer, though this may have been lost on Ethan as he continued his empirical investigation into the law of gravity, duly dropping a coffee mug onto the tiles as I strapped him into his high chair. Things improved from there on in, all cutlery, salt and pepper shakers, condiments, tug-worthy tablecloth corners etc safely placed beyond reach; I selected the fruit cup for Ethan while I opted for the chilaquiles - a kind of Mexican scrambled eggs with assorted 'stuff', easier to spell than pronounce. All v. good. Then to the park for an hour's run-run before heading home to relax in front of a good book, preferably printed on board with lots of brightly coloured pictures and monosyllabic text, whilst Ethan completes the New York Times' crossword.


Chilaquiles in foreground, fruit cup and decaf to the rear.


The grapes look particularly enticing this morning, Daddy.


A quick jog to the park should work that off.


Well, that was exhausting. And it's only ten o'clock.