Saturday morning at the home of Mr. and Mrs. FavoriteBoy usually means two things: sleeping in, and biscuits. At some point shortly after we were married I prepared biscuits for breakfast, and Nathan just loved them. He requests them weekly now, and I enjoy both making them and watching him devour six or seven, usually smothered in gravy.
(After Saturday morning breakfasts, I spend Saturday afternoons praying that Nathan won't have a heart attack.)
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