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My husband goes to breakfast with “ the boys” every Friday, Saturday and Sunday morning. Three different restaurants, three different groups of “boys”. I don’t join him because they’re standing tall at the doors when the places open at 5:30am. That, and the fact they love to argue politics before the sun comes up is more than enough to keep me away.

The waitresses at all three restaurants know them, enjoy their business and treat them like family.

This is evidenced by one of the server’s response when a certain sarcastic fellow was giving her a hard time.

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No, it wasn’t my husband.

But he did take the picture of these anatomically correct eggs I’m sharing with you now.

Waitresses.

Ya gotta love ‘em.

🤣

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