Operation Home Sweet Home

It was a beautiful Sunday morning.


The sun glistened its fullest, most golden glory.


The morning mist had just barely faded leaving crystal-like dews on the tip of the leaves.


The humid wind surrounding the room was more than enough to make the children cover themselves up with the warmth of their blankets.


But the sizzling sound of bacon and eggs plus the wafting smell made them changed their minds.


With a slow opening of their eyes, an awkward getting up from their beds and a long yawning of their mouths they knew it was time to leave their world of comfort that had provided them the solitude they needed for eight hours.


And the enticing bacon and eggs were replaced with the aroma of garlic and rice.


A sumptuous combination! The children's eyes were now glistening and lips smacking with hunger. Barely a minute passed, they hurriedly jumped out of their beds and raced downstairs.


Only one thing was in their minds that time, to eat with their hearts' delight. And their day was just beginning.


Their round table is made of light plywood which has a rotating center for serving meals more comfortably. It's clothed in fancy-colored tablecloth that looked like a bipolar's choices of hue. Their mother love colors so much that it reflects from her personality to her choice of clothes to choice of furniture accessories. The middle was now festooned with viands fried to a crisp and cooked to perfection, the mound of garlic rice shined like a treasure chest waiting to be grasped by the hunters.


The children giddily took a seat - the older one by the father and the younger one by the mother. They sat down excitedly but instantly bowed their heads and clasped their hands for a meaningful prayer to thank the Creator for providing them food sufficient to make their day worth appreciating. After a quick moment of silence it was now time to dig in.


Their mother grabbed the plateful of rice and handed it first to the younger child who quickly obtained more than a cupful of precious bits of rice. Then she handed it to the older child who took more than enough rice to be energized for the whole day. After that their mom placed it again at the middle of the table and got some for her own. Meanwhile their dad, who was the last to place rice on his plate got all of what was left and dished it out to be washed later.


Next in line were the cholesterol-laden tandem of bacon and eggs. Oh, the rich color of rightly cooked bacon seemed very inviting, add to that the golden yolks of pure heaven encircled of white islands of purity that were more than willing to be gobbled up by a hungry family of four and we will see bulging stomachs in no time. One by one the strips of bacon were reduced to nothing but microscopic crumbs while the sunny side up eggs  were reduced to lifeless splatter of yellow paint on a canvas of porcelain plate.


Wiping their mouths clean with embroidered hand towels, they placed their plates on the dish washing area, and every one felt more than just a full stomach. 


It has been a while since the family ate together. Usually the parents would eat first for they wake up first during weekends and their mother would cook them breakfast while the children would still dream of bountiful, spectacular and magnificent experiences that may happen soon. Wet dreams may or may not have been included. 


A family was once again reunited. True, they see each other everyday but nothing beats a genuine family interaction through eating together. Minimal conversations were exchanged but every once in a while they would all look at each other as if trying to convey how they appreciate each and every one and would give out the best smile there is.


But you know there is the worst part.


It is when the youngest child has to wash the dishes because the superiors said so.