My stomach growls loudly and wakes me up at the crack of dawn. With all the commotion of yesterday, we skipped dinner..
But nights like that you can always expect Mother up early making breakfast and baked goods from scratch.
And from the smell seeping through the vents, I can tell she has already started.
Mother has a thing against dirty hands and a dirty face at her kitchen table.. She calls it "yesterday's wear."
But as tired and hungry as I am, I'm just not ready to tidy up and start the day.
It's too early.
Also, Tessa isn't awake yet.. meaning I still have some time to sleep in.
I plan to grab a hot biscuit, and quickly get back into bed.
Still in yesterday's lace socks and dress, I creep past Tessa as she sleeps in..
The floor boards almost give me away, but I somehow make it without her blinking an eye.
Last night I did stay with Tessa in her bedroom.. I sat up mostly all night on her window seal guarding the door and making sure no one came in.
I wasn't interested in my own bed, and I couldn't get comfortable with the thought of a stranger in the house.
Sprinting down the halls, a devious grin spreads across my face, almost drooling over the thought of freshly cooked dough.
The windows all opened ajar let the new day's sun pour down the paint of our walls.. I dance through the rays and morning dew before I carry myself down the stairs..
I peak out of each corner until I'm sure Mom isn't around, and luckily she's not..
I catch a glimpse of her outside of the window hanging wet laundry onto our lines.
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Perfect timing!
Moving swiftly as a cat, I find myself in the kitchen grabbing as many pastries and biscuits that my arms can carry.
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