Sunday ritual
07/20/2025
The plaited bread is freshly sliced, the coffee is steaming in the pot, the eggs are perfectly cooked, meat and cheese, spread, yogurt, cereals and so on are ready. There will be nothing for lunch because we got up late and it's Sunday-not-so-early-in-the-morning. But something is missing, the decoration.
So we quickly run to the display case and grab some model cars. Because a table without them is hard to bear on a Sunday. Perhaps they are an expression of serenity, the little cars with which to start a day off with the family. However, it is clear that not everyone at the table is convinced that you need cars to be relaxed.
But I think this helps. Because I suspect that where toy cars are driven on tables, the world is still somehow in order.
I can well remember how I loved nothing more as a child than driving my cars around a track somewhere in the living room. That was the edge of our coffee table or our double radiator heater, which was my highway. Meanwhile, Dad would sit at the table and listen to the radio or Mom would make Sunday plans with him. My sister, on the other hand, always sat cross-legged on the chair and read. And we all knew that there was nothing else to do at that moment except exactly what we were doing. That's why I still like to have a few toy cars on the table at Sunday breakfast of all times.
