It’s now 12:00 a.m. on July 13, and it’s officially Bagel Friday. Actually, every Friday is Bagel Friday.

Every Friday morning, the Lovely Miss Courtney and I go have bagels together. It’s easier now that it’s summer; we don’t have to rush quite so much before school.

We started this tradition sometime last year so that we now do it every Friday, no matter what (almost). Although, ever since she was a very little girl, we’ve liked doing the bagel thing together. For many years, we were in a church that was near the Bagel Factory in Torrance, and we went there a lot on Sunday mornings before church. Good times.

So, at one point last year when it seemed to me, in my fatherly wisdom, that Courtney and I needed a regular time to check in with each other, I instituted Bagel Friday. Some Fridays we have a lot of serious things to talk about. Some Fridays we goof around a lot. Some Fridays we’re both barely awake and subsequently, barely talk. But no matter what, we start Fridays that way.

Even last November, when our family hung out in San Francisco for a few days around Thanksgiving, Courtney and I went for bagels on that Friday morning. It’s important.

A friend of mine at Biola was so impressed with the Bagel Friday idea that he and his daughter, who’s about 13 I think, now begin every Friday by walking to their local bagel place. They live in West L.A., so there’s some cool places to walk to up there. And he says their relationship has really grown since then.

Almost everything in my life or schedule is flexible or negotiable. However, Bagel Friday isn’t one of those things. If you ever want to get together with me, I’ll do my best to make it work for you – but not on Friday mornings. I’m already committed at that time, every Friday, for the next 40 years or so.