Page 50 - North Star Literary & Art Magazine

Breakfast
Nicholas Lawler
It’s 10 A.M. It’s Sunday morning. It’s breakfast time, baby. I reach my right arm out for the refrigerator door, swing it open to the left, and the beautiful fridge shines its light on all the glorious cheeses, cold cuts, leftover pasta, other random food items, waters, juices, sodas, beers, and many condiments it carries. The cooled air hits my face. Just a little below my eye level, I spot the Thomas brand English muffins, and I snatch the hell out of them. My eyes already know where they are going next, and that is at the top right of my cold food closet, the 1/3 reduced fat Philadelphia cream cheese. I get my hands on that and set it on the kitchen table. Behind me is the utensil drawer. I slide it open and snag a butter knife and dessert fork. I utilize the little fork to pry the English muffin in half by circling the muffin around while poking the holes along the middle plain of the bread biscuit. The two halves are made and ready to be toasted. I insert the toaster plug into the outlet, plop each half into the slots, push the lever down, and let the toasting begin. There is no time for me to rest though. I again head back to my picture and magnet-covered fridge to haul it open. The 2% milk is placed on the top left shelf among other gallons of beverages. I grab the cow juice, but mid-snag I hear the toaster pop! That was quick. My mind races. I need to put the English muffins back in the heat to continue their toasting. I rush over frantically to put the pieces of bread back into the warmth of their own home. Two times in the toaster usually does the trick for a perfect looking, tasting, and toasted English muffin. Back to a calm state, I step back over to the refrigerator and grab my milk, then open the wooden cabinet with all the mugs. I see a nice homey looking green drink holder and decide this is the one I want to sip from while I chow down my impeccably toasted Thomas English muffins spread with cold cream cheese. On the counter is where I place the mug, and I steadily, not too aggressively, but not too passively, pour my milk to a perfect distance from the brim to avoid overflow, but give me the most out of the breakfast beverage. In the cabinet next door homes all shapes and sizes of plates. I take a medium-sized circular one. The toaster pops again! I quickly and cautiously with my fingertips, remove the muffins from the intense heat. They are stifling to touch, but the perfect combo is cold cream cheese on hot bread, so waiting for them to cool off is far from an option. I literally have to deal with them burning my hand. It is now Philadelphia’s time to shine and the butter knife finally comes into play. I separate the cream cheese lid from the container and take hold of the silver spreader. With my help, the knife smoothly and satisfy- ingly scoops out some of that white cream, leaving a corduroy pattern on the cream cheese still inside the tub. I spread it amazingly even on each golden toasted English muffin half. It is now time to take a seat at the table. Napkin to my left, plate with some glory on it in the middle, and my dairy drink in line with the top right of my platter. I reach for the flawless meal I made... and I begin to munch.
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