Someone is about to turn thirteen.
She has started a most verbal countdown.
"Seriously! Where did the time go? You were just a baby in my arms," I said.
For the longest time, I'd make her popovers for her birthday breakfast. We used to call them fluffy buns, a Pinky Dinky Do reference.
"This year," she whispered to me across the couch during a piano lesson, "I want bacon and coffee for my birthday."
"Bacon and coffee?" Me. Surprised. I laughed.
She laughed too.
"And for dinner ..."
"Make a list, tell me later."
Today, my brain is in a thick fog and all I want to do is sleep.
Creamy butternut bisque (made with coconut milk). Warm shawl around my shoulders. Eyelids heavy.
I didn't want to forget her request. From the mouth of the same girl who just told me she wanted to skip using her iPod today so she could ride scooters with her sister.