How do you like em? Simple, yes, or is it?

I, myself, like them all different ways, sometimes it is sunny side up, or maybe all complex with wild exotic spices, or maybe the sophisticated poached, a little Benedict.

The under line thought on this is do we really know who we wake up next to? Would you be able if  she were to leave the table, the waitress approaches looking very annoyed, looks at you in that way, you know the look, like my day doesn’t begin and end with you, but, the one that left you sitting there with this world ending question, life does begin and end with. So you look at this woman who is hovering over your table, asking a question that should be so easy to answer, “ So how does she like em”. And you think, damn, do I really know her?

I should have known my fate when I was left in that same situation, my now ex, left me in such a predicament, did I falter, no it was easy, over medium, ham, and throw in some hash browns. PASSED, no problem. Now the flip side, as I made my way through the restaurant there stood my inquisitor, pen tapping upon her pad, passing judgment and convicting my rude bladder, the question poised upon her lips, ” so what do you want, and how do you like ‘em. After the inquisitor, pivoted and left I looked at my then true love, and the words rolled from my tongue into deaf ears, ” could you not answer?” She was oblivious and later found out that this one little minor thing of what I ordered for breakfast was only a symptom. She didn’t know, nor did she care. Okay maybe a little bitter. But my question is not do you know how the light of your eye, likes her eggs, but have you stopped and taken the time, to know.

Do you know, if she takes mayo, votes Republican or Democratic, likes Tony Bennett, or is she one who prefers Frank. If you were to be struck blind today, would you be able to trace her body in your mind, seeing every blemish, every freckle.

Are we to know that special someone, completely?

I turned to my good friend google and found an interesting statement, ” if a relationship is to flourish, it takes intimacy, it takes great courage to look at your spouse and say…. this is me, I may not be proud of it at times, and at times maybe a little embarrassed, but this is who I am.”

I have found in all of my relationships I try to listen, filing away little tid bit of information, to be yanked out at the appropriate moment. I try to know before that first over night stay, do I need to run to the store for half n half, which side of the bed is her favorite side. Yes I could rush out to the store upon her first awakening, but I myself do not want to be thought of as a boi scout, but as the woman who thought enough of this woman that I invited to my chamber, that I just knew.

So my dear friends, take the time, ask her is she a scramble egg or fried egg kind-a gal, cream or black, if she doesn’t appreciate it, the waitress will.