9 things boomers still do every single Sunday morning that younger generations would consider a waste of a perfectly good day off

Sunday mornings hit different when you’re over 60. While my millennial neighbors are sleeping off their Saturday night Netflix binge, I’m already three activities deep into what they’d probably call “doing absolutely nothing productive.”

The generational divide around Sunday mornings fascinates me. What feels like sacred tradition to one generation looks like voluntary torture to another. And honestly? Both sides might have a point.

1) Reading the physical newspaper cover to cover

Remember newspapers? Those big, unwieldy things that get your fingers dirty? Yeah, we still read those. Every single page, including the obituaries and classified ads nobody uses anymore.

My daughter once watched me spread the Sunday paper across the kitchen table and asked, “Why don’t you just check the news on your phone?” Fair question.

But there’s something about the ritual of it, the coffee stains on the business section, the satisfying rustle of turning pages. Plus, I’ve been doing this since 1978. Old habits die hard.

2) Getting up at 6 AM without an alarm

Our internal clocks are permanently set to “ungodly early,” and we couldn’t change them if we tried.

While younger folks cherish their ability to sleep until noon, we’re watching the sunrise with our first cup of coffee, wondering why anyone would want to miss the best part of the day.

Is it exciting? Not particularly. But after decades of early morning work commutes, sleeping in feels wrong, like wearing shoes on the wrong feet.

3) Going to church services that last two hours

Every Sunday, I sit in the same pew I’ve occupied for thirty years, in the church where I was baptized. The service runs long, the hymns are ancient, and yes, sometimes the sermon could use some editing.

But it’s not just about religion. It’s about seeing the same faces, checking in on Mrs. Henderson’s hip surgery, and feeling connected to something bigger than my weekly grocery list.

Younger generations might find their community online or at brunch, but this works for us.

4) Making elaborate breakfasts from scratch

Pancakes from a box? Not in this house. When my grandkids visit on Sundays, I’m up early mixing batter from scratch, flipping pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse for the four-year-old and perfect circles for the fourteen-year-old who’s “too old for kid stuff.”

Could we grab McDonald’s breakfast? Sure. But standing over a hot griddle for an hour, watching little faces light up over something I made with my own hands?

That’s not wasted time. Though I understand why someone without kids or grandkids might see it differently.

5) Calling relatives just to chat

“Hi, just calling to see how you’re doing.” These seven words strike fear into the hearts of millennials everywhere. No agenda, no specific reason, just checking in for a 45-minute conversation about nothing in particular.

We call siblings, cousins, old friends from high school. We discuss the weather, our various ailments, and what we had for dinner last Tuesday.

Younger folks text “u up?” at 2 AM. We call at 9 AM sharp to discuss our cholesterol levels. Different strokes.

6) Watching Sunday morning news shows

Three hours of talking heads discussing politics, interrupted by pharmaceutical commercials? Sign us up! We’ve been watching the same Sunday morning lineup since the Carter administration.

Do we need three different panels discussing the same news stories we already read in the paper? Probably not.

But it’s comfortable background noise while we putter around the house, and occasionally someone says something that makes us yell at the TV. It’s interactive in its own way.

7) Doing household chores that could wait until Monday

Sunday morning means laundry, vacuuming, and organizing the garage for the fifteenth time this year. We iron clothes nobody irons anymore. We wash cars that aren’t really dirty. We clean gutters that were cleaned last month.

Why not relax? Because motion is meditation for our generation. We grew up believing idle hands were the devil’s workshop, and now we can’t sit still without feeling guilty. My therapist would have thoughts about this, but she’s probably sleeping in like a normal person.

8) Going for drives with no destination

Gas is expensive, traffic exists even on Sunday mornings, and GPS has eliminated the joy of getting lost. But we still pile into the car just to “go for a drive,” usually ending up at the same scenic overlook we’ve visited 500 times.

We drive through neighborhoods to look at houses we’ll never buy, past businesses that closed decades ago, down memory lane both literally and figuratively.

It’s nostalgic and pointless and absolutely wonderful if you’re in the right mindset.

9) Having the exact same routine every single week

Perhaps the most horrifying thing to younger generations: we do the exact same things, in the exact same order, every single Sunday. Paper, coffee, church, breakfast, chores, drive, dinner prep. Repeat until death.

Where’s the spontaneity? The adventure? They’re right to ask. But after a lifetime of chaos, deadlines, and unexpected everything, there’s deep comfort in knowing exactly what Sunday morning will bring.

No surprises, no decisions, no FOMO because we’re not missing anything. We’re exactly where we want to be.

Final thoughts

Here’s what younger generations might not understand: we know these Sunday routines seem boring. We know sleeping in feels better than 6 AM wake-ups. We know brunch with friends beats church with octogenarians.

But we’ve already done our experimenting. We’ve found what works, what brings us peace, what makes us feel grounded in an increasingly chaotic world.

These “wasteful” Sunday mornings aren’t about productivity or optimization. They’re about rhythm, ritual, and the radical act of doing things slowly in a world obsessed with speed.

So while you’re maximizing your weekend productivity or recovering from Saturday night, we’ll be reading our newspapers, making our pancakes, and calling our relatives. Judge all you want. We’re too busy enjoying our perfectly predictable Sunday mornings to care.