Sunny side up

“Sunny side up.” You answer.

“Ask and you shall receive.” He says, before depositing a pair of immaculately cooked sunny side up eggs on your plate. You grab your fork and take a bite.

“Good God, this is delicious.” You groan, stuffing the rest of it in your mouth.

“I’m glad.” He responds, humming to himself.

“Morning love.” Yawns your mother coming and sitting down at the table. She’s dressed up in a suit dress and tie, her long brown hair tightly done up, and a briefcase next to her on the floor. She takes a seat across from you at the table. Dad deposits a plate of breakfast in front of her and gives her a kiss on the cheek as she pours her own coffee.

“Morning mom.” You say.

“Morning John, early riser are we?” She jokes, looking at your dad.

“Made himself breakfast too.” Your dad chimes in. Your mother grins as she digs in.

"Yeah, you could say that." You reply. “Where are you off to mom?” You ask as she starts to dig into her food.

“Work, honey, same as always.” Your mom replies. “Have to pay the bills somehow.”

“I see.” You say, pondering another difference from before to now. “Where at?” Your mom gives you a look while she chews her food.

“The distribution center that I’ve worked at for 25 years?” She replies. There’s a dawning of understanding as you look over at your father and then back at your expectant mother.

“Oh I was just curious.” You reply. “Have you made management yet?”

“Uh oh.” You hear your dad whisper under his breath. Your mom gives an exasperated sigh.

“I wish, Yvette is still shy of work and ready to take all the credit.” You mom snorts. “Still just assistant depot manager.”

“What about you dad, do you still work?” You ask inquisitively.

“Yeah,” he replies, cleaning the dishes, “still teaching part time.” Well that’s another difference, you catch yourself thinking, your old dad used to be an accountant, a CPA of some 15 years or so, and the sole breadwinner of the house. But now it sounds like your mom has taken that role in the household.

You go on idly chatting to your parents for a few minutes before they excuse themselves to go off to work. You watch out of the dining room window as your mother gives your father a lift in the truck. In turn leaving you alone again with your thoughts at the table, sipping coffee. You spend a long time sitting there processing what you found out about your new family.

“How very odd.” You say to no one in particular.