Eggs And Toast. A Ritual

by frannybolsa on November 20, 2013

in Life

Toast and peanut butter

A ritual. Up early. I crack the eggs. She whisks. She toasts the bread. I grab the peanut butter. No words yet. The coffee hasn’t been poured. Shoulders brush. A reach around for the black pepper. She lets me hug her while she’s trapped by the sticky spot on the floor by the stove.

I grab the plates. She grabs the Sriracha. Chairs pulled to the table. Dig in.

We talk. About weird dreams with cows on porches, giant spiders and pirate ships. About spending a summer in Paris. Looking oh so Parisian sipping cafe au lait at an outdoor cafe. She talks about her plan to live in a house made of French doors. Where I can come visit her. But only for long weekends. A short vacation from the nursing home.

Chewing and chatting and chuckling. Before the day has started the best part has already happened.

  • Terri D.

    Love.

    • frannybolsa

      Me too. I love eggs and I love my kiddo.

  • Nana

    These are the moments that will last a lifetime – for both of you!

    • frannybolsa

      I’ll hold on the memory for when I’m locking away in a nursing home and my daughter has come to visit for ages.

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