Breakfast Tea on Tuesday

Rebecca woke up sounding congested this morning.

She had been complaining about a sore throat for a couple days.

"Can you bring me food on a tray?"

she croaked in her morning, "I'm sick" voice.

"Sure", I said vaguely, hoping she would go back to sleep.

Once my son was off to school, a picnic breakfast in bed on a tray was sounding more do-able.

My largest tray was almost too large to pass up our narrow stairs.

On the walk up, I noted the dog hair nestled in the corners of each step.

But I digress.

I landed on Rebecca's bed like a magic carpet ride, tray laden with milk and honeyed tea, teacups, scrambled eggs with cheese and warmed over cinnamon rolls (served on old glass dessert plates). Also a small blue custard cup of orange slices and a small box of raisins (just because I know she likes raisins).

While we ate and drank, I read "The Jolly Postman", opening and reading every enclosure in the book, instead of skimming like I normally do for bedtime reading.

"This is the best day ever!"

exclaimed my 5 year old invalid.

And she cleaned her plate, eating better than when she is "well".

Just then she spilled her full teacup on the tray.

"Oops!"

The party was over.

Until lunch.