Sundays. Sundaes.

Sundays have had a major glow up since my childhood days. I remember feeling so somber on Sunday (especially in the afternoon), wishing Monday would just wait another day or two. My mom would wake me up for church and we’d either go to church (major letdown) or she’d say, “let’s just go get breakfast, God understands.” If my grandma is reading this from the grave, she’s so disappointed in us. She’s probably telling God right now and He’s prepping a fax to the devil. Ugh. Sorry, Mamuchi.

Anyway, we’d go get breakfast and the waiter at Baker’s Square (RIP) knew my order. Hit me with the usual, brother. Chicken, broccoli, and mushroom skillet. Hold the broccoli and mushroom, but double up on the cheese and potatoes, thanks. Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t always a vegan, y’know.

These breakfasts were followed by inevitable food comas, but that didn’t mean we weren’t getting dessert. McDonalds sundae, anyone? I was a strawberry girl myself, but I didn’t discriminate against caramel or chocolate.

Sometimes my mom would take me shopping or we’d go see a movie. If she wanted to watch something really adult, she’d let me bring my best friend Aileen and we’d catch the latest Harry Potter movie for the 4th time or whatever while she caught the latest Pierce Brosnan movie.

On a few occasions (maybe more than a few) I would check my school agenda on Sunday afternoon and realize that I had a huge assignment due the next day. One time it was a book report on Andrew Johnson. Try writing that without wikipedia in under 12 hours. My mom was pissed. We nailed it, though. Got an A. Clearly we do our best work under pressure. Also, Andy J – cool dude from what I remember. I’d like to take this moment to thank my grandpa for having A-Z Encyclopedias and for buying a house a block away from the library.

Those Sundays don’t have anything on my adult Sundays. Now I wake up super early to take the dog out, I feed him, I clean the whole house and try not to stub my toes on anything. Living the dream, baby. Who wants to be a kid? Not me.

Happy Sunday, readers. Hope it’s a good one!

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