You are trying to figure out a breakfast scene. I recommend actually writing the breakfast scene. Do it however you want. Let it be however it is you manage to write it.
Right now, what you've got is no scene at all. Get the scene written. Then you can worry about how well it works. The only thing worse than a badly written scene is the unwritten scene.
Well yeah, all I needed was some reference because it was so outside of my experience that I got stuck.
An early thing I tried to look up was Habit Patterns and that "normal" family seemed to be discussing a story in the newspaper while the girl who was being shamed for having ADHD was doing the "running down the street after shoving in some toast" trope you see in anime.
Once I got Youtube to cooperate about breakfast, I got Twister, Cheaper by the Dozen, Matrix, and
@Toby Frost gave me perfection with the meal from Alien even though there weren't literal children. It also would have been great if Youtube fed me that musical waffle commercial again. The question was also asked on isitnormal and apparently "shut up and eat" is common among internet-users even when people are all at the same table.
I think I have written some scenes that were better off not existing, but it's pretty special when that happens.
IMO you're asking the wrong question. Ideally a scene should be about:
a) establishing character
b) advancing plot
c) developing inner conflict
which makes the actual context just window dressing over a core issue. In which case, what is your core issue - ie, the reason for wanting to include that scene? Figure that out and the details of the rest shouldn't matter IMO.
This was not the time to get hung-up on architect stuff. This is punch a tree, plant some wheat, and build a dirt-house so you don't die, not stare at the landscape and lay out the first layer of a mansion while being swarmed by zombies and creepers.
Considering that I watched a good video on it last night and still don't know what a plot is, I'm really skeptical about having to worry about what my plot is or making it advance when I'm in a Zone of Comfort phase of the story. (Still not clear on structure, either, but I have a feeling that it's going to be one that is usually used for comic books and Netflix series.) When I get further into the story, I could have a worgen invasion that wipes out my original planned ending if it feels better.
I didn't have time to write yesterday, mom got lost and then dragged me to the beach when I thought we were going to get food near home and then go there after I began the trip thinking we were just buying yarn and getting me vital clothing items. Footnote ᚠ.
Sorry, that was unnecessary but I'm leaving it.
Anyway, the scene is forming in my head now that I got the frame and his inner conflict didn't present himself until I had the scene-setting in mind. I'm not sure if I lucked out or if the odds are with me for at least character development to happen and probably internal conflict. Also, why do people complain about "white room syndrome" when giving at least a literary sketch of a place doesn't fulfill any of your abc?
Here's a metaphor for how I feel: Wise Man's Fear, Chapter 30:
Elodin arranged the two of us so we stood facing each other in profile to the class. “Here we have two lovely young people,” he said. “Their eyes meet across the room.”
Elodin pushed my shoulder and I stumbled forward half a step. “He says hello. She says hello. She smiles. He shifts uneasily from foot to foot.” I stopped doing just that and there was a faint murmur of laughter from the others.
“There is something ephemeral in the air,” Elodin said, moving to stand behind Fela. He put his hands on her shoulders, leaning close to her ear. “She loves the lines of him,” he said softly. “She is curious about the shape of his mouth. She wonders if this could be the one, if she could unclasp the secret pieces of her heart to him.” Fela looked down, her cheeks flushing a bright scarlet.
Elodin stalked around to stand behind me. “Kvothe looks at her, and for the first time he understands the impulse that first drove men to paint. To sculpt. To sing.”
He circled us again, eventually standing between us like a priest about to perform a wedding. “There exists between them something tenuous and delicate. They can both feel it. Like static in the air. Faint as frost.”
He looked me full in the face. His dark eyes serious. “Now. What do you do?”
I looked back at him, utterly lost. If there was one thing I knew less about than naming, it was courting women.
“There are three paths here,” Elodin said to the class. He held up one finger. “First. Our young lovers can try to express what they feel. They can try to play the half-heard song their hearts are singing.”
Elodin paused for effect. “This is the path of the honest fool, and it will go badly. This thing between you is too tremulous for talk. It is a spark so faint that even the most careful breath might snuff it out.”
Master Namer shook his head. “Even if you are clever and have a way with words, you are doomed in this. Because while your mouths might speak the same language, your hearts do not.” He looked at me intently. “This is an issue of translation.”
Elodin held up two fingers. “The second path is more careful. You talk of small things. The weather. A familiar play. You spend time in company. You hold hands. In doing so you slowly learn the secret meanings of each other’s words. This way, when the time comes you can speak with subtle meaning underneath your words, so there is understanding on both sides.”
Elodin made a sweeping gesture toward me. “Then there is the third path. The path of Kvothe.” He strode to stand shoulder to shoulder with me, facing Fela. “You sense something between you. Something wonderful and delicate.”
He gave a romantic, lovelorn sigh. “And, because you desire certainty in all things, you decide to force the issue. You take the shortest route. Simplest is best, you think.” Elodin extended his own hands and made wild grasping motions in Fela’s direction. “So you reach out and you grab this young woman’s breasts.”
There was a burst of startled laughter from everyone except Fela and myself. I scowled. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and her flush spread down her neck until it was hidden by her shirt.
Elodin turned his back to her and looked me in the eye.
“Re’lar Kvothe,” he said seriously. “I am trying to wake your sleeping mind to the subtle language the world is whispering. I am trying to seduce you into understanding. I am trying to teach you.” He leaned forward until his face was almost touching mine. “Quit grabbing at my tits.”
I also have the urge to write a World of Warcraft fanfiction based on Abercrombie of Duskwood named "Giant Space-Flea from Nowhere." For reference, it's a long questline that was apparently just made less-annoying in The Shattering by removing a long run between steps of the quest. For someone who reads the quest explanations, the result is obvious if only in hindsight. (The only thing that made the zone unfun for me was the commute.) For someone who accepts quest, goes to the marker of the map, gets what they're after... I'm not even sure it's worth the time even after the travel-time was shortened, but I don't do XP-math.
Anyway, my point had something to do with Harry Potter and "why are we wasting time with Dudley's birthday and Harry getting to eat a nice dessert at the zoo when it has nothing to do with taking down the guy who made him grow up as an orphan?" As a stand-alone book, the first one had a lot of stupid scenes that were only loose-threads for later.
ᚠ Hey conflict: do I demand to go home or do I endure the getting dragged places without warning well after I'm out of forks because it's less painful than upsetting Mom? I was pretty done after all that stuff I just deleted about the first 1/3, the second 2/3 was a real struggle to ignore my own needs, but persevering when low on forks is a bad habit. The last 3/3 was.. also deleted but I got to drive.
