Sunlight streamed in the kitchen windows, almost blinding me as I swirled my spoon through the mess of nuts and oatmeal Gram set in front of me. Galleytrot sat at my side, tongue out, eyes eager. I finally slid the bowl to the edge of the table and let him have it.
Not much of an appetite.
Gram glared, grabbed a wooden spoon thick with her concoction and filled a new bowl, dropping it in front of me with so much force I had to wipe splatter from the back of my hand.
"Eat," she commanded.
She looked like some fairy tale evil old witch ready to punish me with her glopped up spoon, faded pink paisley apron splotched with bits of food.
I giggled. I couldn't help it. My amusement won me a wink and a grin before she pointed at the bowl.
"I said eat."