It was a strange morning.
There was a thunderstorm I experienced subliminally, waking up just enough to wonder what the hell was happening
Fuss awoke at his usual time, but wonder of wonders was lulled back to sleep by the Wife. I rose, showered and basked in the unaccustomed solitude, eventually meandering kitchenward to straighten up and get breakfast going. I had a coughing fit, courtesy my lingering flu/cold/, interrupted by the thunder of tiny feet pounding down the hallway.
Fuss rounded the corner one arm extended, clutching a red Riccola drop.
"Dada, I bring this so you stop coughing!"
"Oh, thanks!"
He was in a bubbly mood after his extended rest. I set him up with toast, apple slices & a cup of juice. The Wife made a rare morning appearance to complete the nuclear family breakfast scene.
His kick lately is taking a bite of something then declaring IT'S DELICIOUS! in a crazy, mutated Scooby Doo voice, so that was our morning entertainment.
As the time approached I got my work stuff together then came in to say goodbye.
"Dada, you take your glasses off?" Fuss asked. "And take off your LEAVING shirt? And your bag?"
"Oh, you want me to stay?"
"Yah, stay here with me and mama, all together!" with a giant smile.
I hate breaking this sort of 'real life' stuff to him.
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