The smell of breakfast in the morning, it’s different than what you imagine it smells like.

In a perfect world, it’s thick-cut applewood smoked bacon, two eggs bubbled away in a pat of butter, and a toasted English muffin.

Coffee, but the kind that’s from a percolator, that smell of gas stove boiling the kettle while it bubbles to the top, letting you know it’s ready to be ripped from the kiss of the flame.

The smell of steam and hot water mixed with Ivory soap, soaked from a 6 a.m. shower. 

Squeaky clean hair bundled in a towel right out of the dryer.  The kind that’s been thrown in and popped out to be kept warm so you can wrap yourself in cozy before your breakfast.

With the smell of clean plates from the cabinet, your eyes aren’t blurry anymore from hitting snooze too many times.

Sitting down at the table and adding just a touch of salt and scattering of pepper.  All of these smells come together during breakfast getting your morning underway.

That’s the imagined perfect breakfast.

That is not how real smells of the morning play out.

It’s a crusty eyed hustle, ignoring the many screams and shouts of the alarm, squeezing in one final micro dream, something this time worth journaling. 

The smell of the pillow reminding you that you have to get out of bed, there’s a deep morning breath yawn with a stretch telling you there’s no time for breakfast.

It’s the smell of soap splashing against the face, of saline that drips a tiny salt spot onto your cheek, putting in contacts while blinking.

The smell of coffee is true enough, that’s the wrap of the morning, glug, glug, glug.

Pull-on some comfortable pants that smell like fresh laundry, not breakfast you’re thinking maybe there’s time for a toasted bagel. 

Pull a shirt on that passes the sniff test, spray some wrinkle remover on it.  This doesn’t remotely smell like breakfast, but at least you’ll look respectable for that last second remote meeting.

Mint fills your mouth and sink as the toothbrush grinds with activity. Take a moment to put a brush through your hair that smells like green tea shampoo, a reminder of the shower you took last night to help put yourself to sleep.

Cup your hand around your underarms to make sure they’re pleasant, never wanting to sit in your own smell, there’s no body oil, winning at staying fragrant.

Breakfast smells like an apple today, the crisp flesh being bitten by cleaned teeth pulls it away. 

More coffee, more cream, the smell of vitamins, especially B happens to be overwhelming.

Run up the stairs, throw a hat on and smell the dust burning during the morning turn on of heat.

This is the smell of breakfast that ran out of time today. You’ll wake up on time tomorrow and capture those toast dipped eggs.