[美]玛里琳.迈尔斯.斯拉德/Marers Slade
我和丈夫在我们最喜欢的一家餐馆里庆祝结婚38周年时，钢琴手莱尼走过来问道：“你们是如何让自己的婚姻历久弥新的呢？”
我知道，这个问题，只言片语是说不清楚的。然而，快到周末时，我开始思考这个问题，我想，或许其中一个原因就是，每逢周末，我们都在床上吃早餐。
我们结婚时，母亲送了我们一个早餐托盘作为结婚礼物。于是，我们周末在床上吃早餐的习惯由此开始了。盘面是玻璃做的，盘子两侧各有一个细长的木制侧袋，用来放晨报——就是过去常在电影中见到的那种。母亲很喜欢她那个时代的电影，虽然
她很少在床上用早餐，却很希望女儿这样。深爱着我的新郎把母亲的这番话记在了心里。
婚后，一直都是丈夫准备早餐。我有些不好意思了，于是，我提议轮流准备早餐。虽然丈夫嘴上抱怨——“我讨厌床上有饭渣”——但我还是发现，每当星期天早上，他总是在床上急切地等着他的早餐。不久，这种周末早餐就成了我们生活的一部分，我也习以为常起来。我只知道，我们都很珍视这段有别于其他幸福时刻的时光——看看报、放松放松，暂时忘却其他杂事。
回想这些年来，我发现，我们的周末生活已经大变样，但这个老习惯却保留了下来。后来，我们有了小孩（初为父母时，早餐后，我们睡觉的时间远远多于看报的时间），但我们总能恢复之前的生活习惯——两个人的早餐，星期六一次，星期天一次。
当我们有更多的时间时，早餐托盘上的内容就变得富于喜庆色彩。最初只是以几何形状排列的水果片，后来就是从自家花园采摘的鲜花了——有时只采一朵，然后把它放在半个葡萄柚中。没想到这竟发展了我在装饰、点缀方面的天赋。不论什么东西，孤挺花也好，枫树的叶芽也罢，都成了我的装饰材料。丈夫说
我做的早餐给他带来了许多灵感，我想，母亲也会赞同他的说法的。在那个星期六，当我看到丈夫将雏菊像帽子一样放在一个大草莓上时，我就想：我怎么才能超过他的这一创意呢？一个漆黑的冬夜，我从梦中醒来，眼前仿佛看到一个雪人站在托盘上。就在那个星期天，我铲来了一捧雪，并立刻做好了一个雪人。兴奋中，我一挥手把一枚小松果按在雪人头上了。
我把早餐端给丈夫，盘面上放着那个冻结实的小雪人。我等待着他的反应，但他一点反应也没有——而就在我下楼时，我听到他放声大笑起来，接着说道：“你赢了！这个奖非你莫属了！”
When my husband and I celebrated our 38th wedding anniversary at our favorite restaurant，Lenny，the piano player，asked，“How did you do it？”I knew there was no simple answer，but as the weekend approached，I wondered if one reason might be our ritual of breakfast in bed every Saturday and Sunday.It all started with the breakfast tray my mother gave us as a wedding gift.It had a glass top and slatted wooden side pockets for the morning paper—the kind you used to see in the movies.Mother loved her movies，and although she rarely had breakfast in bed，she held high hopes for her daughter.My adoring bridegroom took the message to heart.Feeling guilty，I suggested we take turns.Despite grumblings—“hate crumbs in my bed”—Sunday morning found my spouse eagerly awaiting his tray.Soon these weekend breakfasts became such a part of our lives that I never even thought about them.
I only knew we treasured this separate，blissful time read，relax，forget the things we should remember.Sifting through the years，I recalled how our weekends changed，but that we still preserved the ritual.We started our family(as new parents，we slept after breakfast more than we read)，but we always found our way back to where we started，just two for breakfast，one on Saturday and one on Sunday.When we had more time，my tray became more festive.First it was fruit slices placed in geometric pattern；then came flowers from our garden—sometimes just one blossom sprouting from a grapefruit half.This arranger of mine had developed a flair for decorating，using everything from amaryllis to the buds of a maple tree.
My husband said my cooking inspired him.Mother would have approved.Perhaps it was the Saturday when the big strawberry wore a daisy hat that I began to think，how can I top this？One dark winter night I woke with a vision of a snowman on a tray.That Sunday I scooped a handful of snow and in no time had my man made.With a flourish I put a miniature pinecone on his head.As I delivered the tray，complete with a nicely frozen snowman，I waited for a reaction.There was none—but as I headed down the stairs I heard a whoop of laughter and then，“You’ve won！Yes，sir，you’ve won the prize！”