breakfast

There is nothing routine about Tua's morning schedule. She wakes up in the best of spirits and usually requests juice (cranberry, please) and toast and depending upon her disposition, will either eat sitting cross-legged on the floor, at the table with us, or at her own office desk. Today, I was allowed an audience with her in her own little breakfast cubicle. She feasted on cheerios and raisins while playing with a candlestick. The starved figure that she took me to be, I was offered one of her blocks, to eat, I can only assume.