The King of our house is of course Shawn.
I love him for many reasons but a big one is because he's always eaten whatever I cooked. What...e...ver. I haven't always been very good at this cooking thing. He survived the first four months of our marriage with me, a hotel room, a hot plate, a slow cooker, and one cookbook that had a can of Campbell's soup in everything. I have gotten to be a much better cook, but even a good one occasionally has a flop. He's even eaten the flops. Sometimes he doctors them up a bit, but he eats them. He's also the king of leftovers. He's not embarrassed to take them to work. He's even been known to share! At home it doesn't matter what it is, he will dump it together and eat it. I love that. In 16 years of marriage he has only disliked one thing. A chicken, mozzarella, tomato sauce concoction. I don't know how I messed it up, but I did. That recipe was thrown away.
But he reminded me of Elvis a little this morning with his choice of breakfast. I don't lay claim to this recipe.