Breakfast of Champion (One, AKA Me)

Little did I know when I posted that last uplifting piece about the rights of domestic workers that I would so soon be forced to prove myself.

This morning, Padma called in sick. Yesterday was her day off, so that's two in a row (Hmmm: Maybe I should fire her. Hire someone else before she returns!). 

Anyway, so much for a relaxed Sunday. 

I got up and trudged into the kitchen to organize breakfast. And this post is about that meal. Because, believe it or not, I had walked over a MILE by the time that little interlude at the table was over, just in going back and forth between the table and the kitchen (around twenty steps, but believe me, they add up), bringing the things I forgot.

Here's the menu. See how many things you can remember just reading through once.

Lassi for Masiji, a half glass, no salt, no sugar.

Lassi for Ravi, sugar.

Tea for Mummy, Indian style, with cardamon and not too sweet.

Coffee for Dad, with hot milk.

Coffee for me, cold milk.

Water for Mummy, room temp.

Water for me and Dad, cold.

Ensure for Moy Moy, warm

Toast for Masiji and Mummy, barely warmed in the toaster (too browned and their teeth can't handle it)

Toast for Dad, Ravi and me,  well-browned.

Tomatoes for Ravi, sliced

Tomatoes for me, chopped

Apples, peeled and chopped small, except for Mummy who takes them grated.

Pomegranate

Bananas

Other things needed on the table:

Salt

Black pepper

Peanut butter

Margarine (butter crisis continues!)

Meds for Moy Moy

Meds for Dad

Meds for Mummy

If you are wondering where Ravi was during all this to-ing and fro-ing, let me assure you, so was I.