It's the Groundhog Day premise: we keep reliving this same day over and over, trying it differently each time. We've got a job to deal with, we've got our father who wants to escape from his nursing home, and we've got our son's birthday to get to in spite of our ex-wife's animosity. Also, we have a jar of honey.
Near as I can tell, nothing ever works out well. Until we get to the honey for the second and last time. I guess a case could be made that this story is about savouring the small pleasures in life even when everything around us keeps going hopelessly and terribly wrong -- even when nothing around us can actually be fixed.
I must confess, though, that I had difficulty reading the prose. It appears to have been translated from another language, and not very well. Things tend to be phrased very strangely indeed.
For breakfast? Honey, of course: drizzled over a bowl of yoghurt. You can still taste the sour under the sweet.