It started out in a tiny kitchen couched in the safe routine of childhood…cereal and juice on Monday, Wednesday, Friday…soft boiled eggs and toast on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday…pancakes on Sunday. It was breakfast: lower case the beginning of routine.

Then came marriage and children…seven of them…this required Breakfast and Routine. Each year and each child boundaries were added and lower case was replaced by upper.   Juice and cereal or oatmeal on weekdays, bacon and eggs, pancakes or french toast on Sunday. I smoked and drank coffee while they ate; passing on rules and wisdom with my Winston Lights “Please do not brush your teeth before BREAKFAST then tell me that you can’t drink your orange juice because it tastes gross.”

Then I stopped smoking and gained weight, went on a diet that required BREAKFAST and ROUTINE: Cereal and ½ banana then a mile walk.

Then my husband lost his job and I went to work full time. The BREAKFAST and ROUTINE ramped up a notch. The days were bracketed in rigidity.

Then we moved to Seattle and I took a new job and the days were twelve hours long with the commute. BREAKFAST and ROUTINE moved to 4:30 am along with prayer and exercise.

Then, at 71, I retired and we moved to Yakima and some days I don’t eat breakfast and there is no routine and sometimes the children come to visit and we have french toast.

It’s all lower case.