Have you ever heard the phrase "opposites attract"? It's definitely true of magnets, but apparently it's also true of some people. Definitely of Ben and me. It's become the family joke just how opposite we are.
I married an early-riser, and when I say early, I'm not talking about the break of dawn. It's several hours before that. I can't see any reason to get up before it's light out. I mean, if women's work is never done, why try to beat it? Just get some sleep and the work will still be there. Not Ben. For him, every day is a competition to see how much activity and stress he can cram into 17 1/2 waking hours (he sleeps 6 1/2) (does that add up to 24? Since my concussions I'm not good at mathing).
Anyway, Ben hits the ground running around 4:30 most days, so by the time I get up he's been at it for 3 hours and he's huuuuungryyyyyy. He gave up expecting me to make breakfast a very long time ago when it became apparent my brain doesn't begin to function until I've been awake an hour, and by then it's his stomach's lunchtime. So he makes himself a big breakfast long before I get up.
One thing I've learned about Ben and breakfast: it must be cooked. After all, he thinks, it's the most important meal of the day. In his mind, a bowl of cereal is a bedtime snack, not a beginning-of-the-day meal. So when we're traveling we like to go somewhere he can get a big, hot, labor-intensive breakfast, and that's typically an IHOP kind of place.
In January we were in Mississippi for a wedding (you can read about our accommodations here) and one morning we had time to go out for breakfast. Being new to the area, we decided to play it safe and go to Cracker Barrel. If you've ever been to a Cracker Barrel, you know how it's laid out—they're all exactly the same. There were 7 of us plus a baby, so the hostess put us at the round table that's just inside the dining room doorway and passed out menus. Ben doesn't even look at his. He gets the same thing every time; it's the only thing in his life that's predictable.
In just a few minutes our waiter, Austin, appeared. He took orders for water and coffee and disappeared while the rest of us figured out what we wanted. He was back shortly with drinks and we were ready.
Austin started with me, and then, still standing next to me, he looked at Ben, pen poised. Ben started by ordering his staple, blueberry pancakes with maple syrup.
Then Ben said, "Austin, I'm going to ask you to do something that very few waiters have ever been able to do."
Austin (hesitantly): Okay.
Ben: I believe in you, Austin. I know you can get this right!
Austin (raising one eyebrow): Uh-huh.
Ben: Now listen, you're really going to have to pay attention and work hard to make it happen, but I know you can do it.
Austin (under his breath): Dear God, what is it?
Ben: Austin, I would like my bacon hot . . . and crispy. Do you think you can make that happen?
Austin visibly relaxed and, back to his confident self, said, "Oh sure! Hot and crispy. I got it."
I've never felt so sorry for a waiter in my life. That's some serious pressure. But Austin delivered hot and crispy bacon and gave us great service.
So if you're ever looking for breakfast in McComb, Mississippi, go to Cracker Barrel and ask for Austin.