Why the word “brunch” should be used with caution

“Let’s meet for brunch this Sunday.”

Let it be known, I am suspicious of anyone who uses the word “brunch.” If you are British royalty or perhaps dear Martha then the word “brunch” is suitable for your vocabulary. I have no trouble listening to Martha speak of brunch. She could talk about brunch for ten days straight and I wouldn’t have a problem with it. I do, however, have trouble listening to others use the word. Like my new sister-in-law, D, who arranged a family brunch this Sunday. She may not know this but my family doesn’t do brunch. We do breakfast, lunch and dinner, and that’s it. Napkins? Fine china? Eating with utensils? Don’t expect these fancy features, either. When we eat as a family it’s more like a primitive feast, complete with belching. Everyone talks over one another to the point of numbness. Scraps of food end up scattered about the table and floor. There is no etiquette or form of civilized manner. In short: family meals tend to be loud, eccentric and ultimately exhausting.

So, the notion of introducing brunch to a pack of wolves? Good luck with that one.