breakfast-casseroleBefore leaving for my almost week-long training in Michigan, I made a scrumptious breakfast casserole.  The kind that everyone in my family will eat. There are never any leftovers.  The children sing my praises when I bring out this dish.  I feel so accomplished as a homemaker when all of the food is gone.

The morning I was leaving, I scurried around and got myself packed, Meredith to volleyball camp, Locke was at a friend’s house, and Barrett was at work.  Scott was at home getting ready to go to his office and had just finished a bowl of cereal.  Now what should I do?

There were clothes that needed folding, the dishwasher needed unloading, and a few other household chores that needed attention in the 30 minutes I had left before I needed to leave.

I fixed a beautiful breakfast casserole.

I can’t explain it. There was no one at home to eat it.  It was an emotional need of mine to cook.  I was compelled to cook.  I had to laugh when it finally hit me, I was cooking this for me, though I wouldn’t eat a bite.   Hopefully, someone will heat it up while I’m away.

If they go hungry while I am gone, it’s not my fault.  There is a lovely, cold egg casserole in the fridge.