When I was a kid, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work.

On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage, and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed, yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask me how my day was at school.

I do not remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that biscuit and eat every bite.

When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits and I will never forget what he said.

He smiled at her and said, "Honey, I love burned biscuits."

Later that night, I went to kiss my dad good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned.

He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your mom put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides, a little burnt biscuit never hurt anyone."