Crack a couple of eggs and open the bread. Turn around and grit my teeth at the kids (who are currently fighting over a penguin they have two of) and tell them to be quiet for the 104th time so Jericho won't wake up. Jericho wakes up, run back into living room and put his pacifier back in his mouth. Twice. Return to kitchen...almost fall while you try not to trip over the kid who is out of her seat. Again.
Get toast and eggs in the pan. FINALLY. Get kids out of the cinnamon cluster that they aren't supposed to have until after the "nutritious" portion of breakfast. Hah. Take that stinkin penguin away and stuff it in the closet. Jericho wakes up, run into the living room and put pacifier back in his mouth and tell him if he'll give me five minutes of quiet I'll buy him a Ferrari when he gets his driver's license. Heck, when he starts walking. Return to kitchen.
I've almost burned the toast, AND the eggs. Get them out of the pan and onto the plates hoping the kids don't notice. They don't, because their back to wrestling on the table and fighting over who gets to be "MetroMan". (Huh?) Tell them if they don't be quiet, all while whispering as ferociously as possible, I'm going to eat the cinnamon cluster all by yourself. (Secretly hope someone makes more noise so you can eat it yourself.) Of course they don't. But Jericho smells a conspiracy, so run back in the living room but this time he's not having the pacifier deal at all. Finally just give up and take him into the kitchen, getting the kids out of the cinnamon cluster again, but this time one handed.
Go sit on the couch and swear I'm never cooking breakfast again. Eggo waffles and cereal until Jesus comes back.
The last shot is for YouCapture