tradition

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saturdays have always been filled with routines: softball practices. football games. sorority events and for a time, even workdays. monotony. but the good kind of monotony -the kind that makes you look forward to the end of the week before its even begun (ok, so maybe not the workday part).

i don’t think anyone wakes up one morning and says, “today, i’m going to start a tradition” (or maybe they do, and gosh, who am i to assume otherwise?). it just, sort of happens. one time turns into two. two into seven. and suddenly that little purple dot on your google calendar reminding you of the event becomes moot (moot = such an underrated word, there’s also a friends episode about it, watch it here), for it has become as customary as taking your vitamins in the morning (oh you don’t take your daily omega 3’s? i suggest you reconsider) or flossing at night (don’t even make me get all high and dentist on you).

one saturday morning, fresh (or not so fresh?) from my 8 a.m. pure barre class, i met my cousin (sistah from another mistah, and well, from another mutha, too. my mom’s sister, in fact) at honey’s bistro & bakery for my favorite meal of the day. and a creamy bowl of oatmeal, bottomless vat of fresh brewed coffee and a handful of reunions of the santa fe christian variety later, it became quite clear that spending the hours of 9:15 a.m.-10:30 a.m. at my beloved breakfast nook was the best way to spend the first moments of my weekend.

and so, the next saturday, i became a repeat offender.

and the saturday after that, too.

sure the company on the other side of the table interchanged with each seven-day passage (boys, girls, family, friends, i even went solo once!), but the routine remained constant -a delicious bowl of oats, copious amounts of caffeine and a fresh-from-pure-barre-body; sore and spandexed.

it’s almost as if honey’s has become the new trader joe’s (i know, i realize how lofty of a statement that is) because much like my habitual sunday (or any day of the week that ends in ‘y”) tj’s visit, a trip to honey’s warrants familiar faces, a comfortable atmosphere, scrumptious food, and well, lest we forget those above-average looking patrons…

so if you’re free this saturday, or on any saturday for the next umpteen years, i welcome you to join me for the newest addition to my otherwise hum drum routine. because unlike taking my vitamins and flossing my teeth, this tradition is meant to be shared.

not that i wouldn’t mind sharing my omega 3’s or (unused of course) minty gum-cleaning string with y’all. what can i say, i’m a giver.

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