The Dairy Game_04-06-2025_A Day in the Life: Breakfast, Banter, and Boiled Eggs

Hello
Steemians
I'm @mhsnrasel from Bangladesh.

Assalamualaikum alaikum everyone. Welcome to my another blog. In today's blog I'm going to share with you a ordinary day of my life.

Good morning, world—or at least, good morning to my alarm clock, which I could swear has a personal vendetta against my sleeping schedule. June 4, 2025, was one of those wonderfully mundane days that somehow ends up feeling like a mini-adventure when you throw in some family, food, and a pinch of chaos. So, grab a cup of coffee (or a lassi, if you're fancy), and I'll take you through the everyday awesomeness of my day, with a dash of humor to kick it into high gear.

It started as it always does: me half-heartedly dragging myself out of bed like a zombie who's lost its zombie-ing skills. A quick splash of water in the face—because, evidently, this is what "freshening up" entails—and I was ready to greet the morning. Breakfast was the usual fare: something quick, probably toast or whatever had been lingering in the fridge, since nobody has time to prepare a gourmet breakfast when you're still in half-awake mode. I got some work done in the morning, which, I'm being honest here, was likely reading messages and pretending to know what was going on in my inbox. Productivity: 8/10. Effort: questionable.

By lunch time, go time had arrived. My nephews, little balls of kinetic energy, were set for an adventure to the corner store. Now, if you've never shopped with kids, let me tell you: a bit like herding cats, but the cats know very firmly where they want snacks and not a clue about budget. We went straight to the treats—chanachur and lassi. For the insiders, chanachur is your dream spicy crunchy munchie, and lassi is basically a yogurt drink that's like, "I'm refreshing, but I'm a little extra." My nephews devoured the chanachur like it was their life's mission, and I was juggling some pieces of chanachur and a lassi that was, tbh, slightly of a diva—good but not life-changing. The chanachur, though? Chef's kiss. I can write odes regarding those spicy, crunchy bites, but I'll spare you poem.

^{Me posing for a good picture}

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With in this moment me and My nephew Rois go to the roof of a building and take some pictures of us hare is one of my photo taken by my nephew Rois.

After our snack-fest, we continued walking around a little longer, probably debating if we needed more snacks or not (spoiler alert: we always do). Then I headed home to spend time with my family and cousins. Family is first, and I don't say that just because my mom might be reading this. There's value in hanging out with the people who've heard all your humiliating childhood anecdotes and still like you anyway. We laughed, we bickered about who gets the final bite of whatever was in front of us, and we likely told that one family story again about the time Uncle attempted to "fix" the TV and accidentally invented a new dance routine instead. Fun times.

As the day progressed, my nephew, my cousin, and I considered embarking on another wonderful quest: a venture to the neighborhood market. And our mission? To buy "some stuff." Fine, I'm not going to lie and say we didn't create a list, but I will say our shopping strategy was a little more "vibes-based" than "coordinated." We grabbed whatever we needed—probably some random house stuff and perhaps a sneaky second package of treats because, priorities. With our pockets a bit lighter and our backpacks full, we pulled into something that took the day from great to legendary: the chickpeas and egg cart.

Now, if you've never had fried chickpeas and a half-boiled egg from a street cart vendor, you're missing one of the best joys of life. The chickpeas were crunchy and hot and overflowing with so much flavor I seriously thought about asking the vendor to marry me. The half-boiled egg? A drippy, golden masterpiece that causes me to ask myself why I ever eat anything else. We three simply stood there, chomping away, no doubt gaping like we'd discovered the secret to life in a protein bowl. My cousin might have had chickpea crumbs on his shirt, but we do not speak of it. It's a sensitive topic.

As the sun set, we went home, full bellies, happy moods, and shopping bags a-swing.The day was ended on a good warm fuzzy sort of note you get when you've spent the day with folks you love, eating food that is pleasing on every level. Okay, so it hadn't been a day of grand adventure or life-altering epiphanies, but in its own way, it had been just so. A wee chanachur, lots of guffaws, and half-boiled egg that must get a fan following all of its own—what more can one ask?

So here's to the ordinary days made so very extra when spent with loved ones, fueled by snacks, and ready to laugh at life's tiny absurdities. Until tomorrow's adventure (which will probably involve more food and less life conspiring), I leave you with this: always say yes to fried chickpeas. They just might change your life.