Last Sunday, after a soccer tournament in Murfreesboro, Tennessee, I asked my hungry 16-year-old son where he wanted to eat.
“How about Waffle House?” I said hopefully.
“That sounds good,” he said. “And I know what I want: A waffle, scrambled eggs and sausage. What are you getting?”
“Well, I want a ham-and-cheese omelet with jalapenos, double hash browns – smothered and covered – and wheat toast with grape jelly,” I said.
Yum. Yum.
