It's a splendid morning. My friends and I are engaged in a discussion about the day's most pressing decision: breakfast.
Mr. Lizard fancies an English muffin, adorned with double sausage patties and a side of fried eggs. Me: "Sure thing. Would you prefer tea or coffee?" Mr. Lizard: "Ah, a pot of aromatic Earl Grey, please, and don't forget the creamy whole milk and sweet brown sugar." Me: "Your choice is always impeccable."
Dr. Owl is pondering the day's prospects with a thoughtful gaze. Me: "And what might tempt you this morning, Dr. Owl?" Dr. Owl: "Simply sausage, bacon, and French toast for me." Me: "The usual oat milk latte to go with it?" Dr. Owl: "Absolutely, you know my tastes well."
Meanwhile, Little Lizard is concocting a series of comical sounds. Me: "What about you, my little champion lizard, what's your breakfast desire?" Little Lizard: "I’m watching my figure, as you know. Just the strawberry shortcake for me." Me: "Understood. And a mint hot chocolate, as per usual?"
Now, let me record all of this in my charming flamingo notebook. This very notebook was once the pride of Ms. Flamingo, a cook of unparalleled skill, especially when it came to her signature Eggs Benedict. The yolks in her dish flowed like the cascading waters of Niagara.
You might be curious about what I've chosen for myself. Let me whisper a little secret: I skip breakfast, strictly brunch only.
