My family is big on traditions. Anyone who knows us has likely heard stories of crazy Christmas Eve bathroom caroling. And while some traditions are lengendary, some are born out of simplicity.
Peyton woke up particularly early one Sunday morning. In an effort to wake ourselves up and take full advantage of the day ahead, Martin and I bundled PK up in the car, drove the grocery store, bought me a coffee and Martin and Peyton muffins from the bakery. Peyton loved eating her blueberry muffin almost as much as dad loved eating his. And so Muffin Sundays were born.
Every Sunday morning we venture to the store and pick out muffins for breakfast. Peyton gobbles hers up (pumpkin is her current flavor of choice), watching her dad's every move as he gobbles his (and the remainder of hers). It might be cheesy, but I have visions of Peyton visiting us for a long weekend from college and her and Martin heading to the grocery store to pick out their muffins.
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