Peas for breakfast

My mother-in-law hated leftovers. When the family gathered at her house for a meal she urged everyone to keep eating as Grandmas often do. At the very end of the meal, she'd pass each bowl and say "Everyone take one spoonful and then it's gone." Her middle son would say, diplomatically, as middle sons do, "I'll eat it a little later." And Mother S. always replied, " I know you. Later never comes." My husband is the youngest son of that family. If there's a little food left over that might get thrown out, his variation on the theme is, "Save it. I'll eat it for breakfast." After a good night's sleep the piece of fish or the two little potatoes are completely forgotten and remain in their little jar in the refrigerator. Yesterday we harvested vegtables from the garden: a head of broccoli, some lettuce and spinach, three zucchinis, lots of green and yellow and purple beans and about a fourth cup of peas. I added the peas to the half cup we had picked a few days ago. The peas are definitely petering out. I worked on my poor perennial bed in the afternoon. It's been completely neglected so far this year. My husband brought home a pizza to spare us the cooking and then helped me edge that perennial bed. In the middle of eating the pizza I remembered those peas that we should have had for supper. "I'll eat them for breadfast," my husband said. "I know you. You never eat any of that stuff for breakfast," I said. This morning, as I sat with my first cup of tea, he brought me a little bowl of buttered peas and a piece of toast and that's what I had for breakfast.