I make no secret of the fact that I love Waffle House. And it's a good thing.
The Kellogg plant in Atlanta that made Eggo waffles was flooded during our Noah's Ark period a few weeks back, which, coupled with a bacterial problem, caused a nationwide shortage in packaged waffles. That's right. If you think gas is expensive, just wait until you approach the Frozen Foods section in your local Publix. They'll be rationing the Eggos before long.
My children consumed thousands of Eggo waffles when they were growing up. Now you can say that I, as their father, should have realized that breakfast, as the most important meal of the day, should have consisted of more than frozen waffles and maple-flavored syrup.
To which I reply, "Shut up."
Eggo waffles contained--and I quote--"wheat, eggs, and milk". I'd work hard at the toaster and serve my little ones the healthy breakfast, teary-eyed from love for them and the fact that I could catch most of Sports Center. The latest scores and a hot breakfast. All the things you need to start a grrreeaaaat day. Wait a minute, that's Frosted Flakes. Another nutritious breakfast waiting to be served.
If I had exposed my kids to Waffle House before they knew about Eggos it would have been a financial catastrophe. I'd be broker than I am now if they had only known about the Yellow Room Cafe. And they'd each be bigger than the side of a barn.
But I knew. And I'd sneak WH in as often as possible.
Me and The House go way back. My cousin managed one of the first Waffle Houses. It was in Morrow, Georgia, in Clayton County. Back when Clayton County was a destination to be desired and not a joke to be told.
Fill me up, please, with a Ham and Cheese Omelet, Hash Browns Smothered and Covered, with a Waffle on the side. I'll unbuckle my belt and have at it.
I'll leggo my Eggo. I won't be holding on too tight.