I just love the solemness of the little display here.
Yes, it’s morning.
Yes, Mom is up and moving around.
Breakfast, however, has not been made.
There’s a little bit of judgement going on here, certainly some alarm; definitely a great deal of consternation.
I’m rushing to clean the kitchen first, before I have to leave for class, but helpless under the weight of their regard, I fold.
The crisp crack of the Fancy Feast lid sears apart the air…
releasing suddenly manically eager kittens tumbling frantically down the stairs
to their dish.