All this breakfast talk makes me wish I was a kid again, at Grandpa's house. We'd start with milk and bread with sugar, or sugar crisp, cereal, throw in half a grapefruit, and follow that either with pancakes and sausage, or 2 poached eggs (from the poaching pan with those wonderful little cups, that were coated with butter, and the eggs steamed until the whites were just set), and placed on a piece of toast.
Sometimes I'd be treated to freshly made waffles. That was my favorite. Whatever we had, my Grandmother thought I needed to eat more, as I was sooooo skinny and small in my youth. She thought there was something wrong with me. And she'd try to hide aspirin in my food, because as everybody knows, aspirin will cure anything.
I'd always find it and discreetly get rid of it. Though I found it annoying, I still knew the reasons she tried to feed me that aspirin. And I loved her for loving me.
You couldn't fill me up in those days, and if I missed a meal, or the meal was late, I'd be suffering from low blood sugar by the next meal. I was so overactive that I burned up everything I ate. I grew very slow, and was two years behind my peers, until I hit about 22. It made me a big eater, which caught up with me in the long run. But it was fun while it lasted.
Seeeeeeeya; Chief Longwind of the North