I need some bread

"I should make some bread," I told myself several times yesterday. This morning, again, I planned it into my day. At some point I should make some bread, since I didn't buy any when I was shopping, and I'd love to make french toast for breakfast. Hours passed, windows were washed and screens taken down, sick toddler cuddled and snuggled, preschool boy guided through "writing exercises" he begged to do, vacuum cleaner was repaired, supper thoughts began to percolate. Pizza. We hadn't made pizza in weeks. I opened the breadmaker to begin the pizza dough, and was greeted by a still, cold loaf of bread sulking in the breakmaker bowl. Shocked, I foggily recalled following through with my "I should make some bread" prompts several days ago, to go along with the homemade chicken noodle soup I made for supper. Only I was gone for the evening when it finished, and My Hero must've just left it, not knowing exactly what it was for.

It's french toast for breakfast tomorrow.