The Tender Hour

Restaurants all over the country are serving breakfast right now. Waitresses who have already been up for hours are pouring gallons of coffee into plain white ceramic cups. The tinkle of spoon against cup and cup against saucer is the music of the hour. In the kitchen, dozens of eggs are being cracked and fried, along with rashers of bacon and mountains of toast. The air is infused with the smells of coffee and syrup. And somewhere, everywhere, people are actually eating pancakes at the Tender Hour – people with stronger constitutions than mine.

The Tender Hour - I like that. I am going to start calling it that. "Honey please -- a little consideration during the Tender Hour."

Other people must feel it too. It’s a little quiet at breakfast. For the most part, you won’t find the din of conversation layered over conversation at breakfast. People are still waking up, for chrissakes. Take it easy. Go gently into the light of day. For soon enough, they will have to leave the cocoon of the Tender Hour and face the tough, cruel world.