Dad and I had a Waffle House Christmas this morning.
My only plans for Christmas Day this year were to get over to Debbie's house between 10am and noon for a relaxing day of eating leftover turkey and watching movies. My day started when I got a "Merry Christmas" text from my brother at 6am. I groggily replied back, and ask him why he was up so early. Clearly, I don't have kids of my own. Kirk probably wasn't the only parent of small children up at 6am this Christmas morning. I did manage to roll over and get back to sleep, until my next text at 9:17am, declaring that someone now has that Wii game thing.
I decided to get up at that point, and get in some laundry and a shower, before heading over to Lapel. At a little past 10am, I was probably 15 minutes away from leaving for Debbie's, when Dad came back, and asked if I wanted to go to Waffle House for breakfast, which was a little random, and unexpected.
He explained that we had been out of eggs since my sister was in town last weekend and did some baking, and now that he had a taste for eggs, and Marsh was closed, an omelette at Waffle House was sounding pretty good. He had called to confirm that they were in fact open on Christmas Day, and they were. What he didn't mention was that Mom went into the hospital a year ago on the Christmas Eve, and Dad slept in the hospital for the next seven nights, until Mom died in hospice. He was going to be home alone all Christmas Day this year, so when he asked me to go to Waffle House, I knew it was a good idea for both of us, and I could still get to Debbie's house by noon, about the time her 17 and 26 year old sons got up. No 6am wake up for them.
I was a bit surprised to pull into a nearly full Waffle House parking lot, but we got a decent spot without using the handicap tag, and though the House was rockin', we quickly settled into two stools at the end of the counter, and were soon sipping coffee in good, heavy mugs. I've never seen so many people working behind the counter of a Waffle House, nor have they ever been so festive and friendly, and they refused to let the grouchy Manager/plate set up man bring down their holiday spirit.
The sign on the door mentioned a longstanding Waffle House tradition of being open 24 hours on Christmas and New Year's Day. A sign on a counter card further explained that Christmas Day was traditionally the busiest day of the year for most Waffle Houses. As I surveyed the room, I saw a variety of folk. I saw the expected road weary long haul drivers, but I also saw some older folks, perhaps grandparents or empty-nesters, for whom the notion of opening presents at 6am is a far distant memory. Everyone seemed pleased that Waffle House is always open on Christmas, but still, none seemed as festive as the counter team. I was impressed, especially as an old restaurant manager myself.
Dad and I both had the Toddle House special, although I subbed in sausage instead of ham for my omelette. I'm pretty predictable. Our bill was $18.25, and though Dad insisted on paying, I insisted on leaving the tip. I got the confused look that I expected from Dad, as I slipped a $10
under the salt shaker. I simply said, "It's Christmas, they're working, and they did great."
We got in and out pretty quickly, and we were back home by 11:30am. Dad and I talked for a few minutes about where we were last year at this time, and we had an emotional moment, before I wished him a Merry Christmas, and slipped away for a relaxing day at Debbie's.
As I drove home from Debbie's tonight, and reflected on my day, I was thankful for many things, but perhaps I was most thankful that Waffle House was open today, and Dad asked me to join him for a very special Christmas breakfast.
I think I'll always remember my first Waffle House Christmas.
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