At lunch, Mom spreads her slice of Western Hazelnut bread with the egg salad I prepared. Seeing a deli container on the table, she decides to spread its contents on her bread, too. This may be a history-making moment: an egg salad and pistachio salad sandwich. It certainly is colorful.
Another day, at dinner, I serve the boxed brand of tomato soup we love so much along with celery sticks and cheese and garlic French bread. Except for the soup, it looks like a finger food meal to me, so I only set out soup spoons. Mom determinedly saws into her strip of cheesy bread with her spoon, refusing my offer of a knife and fork.
The package of kitty treats disappears overnight.
Mom prefers half and half in her coffee and on her cereal. I prefer French Vanilla creamer in my coffee. I assume that the cat prefers neither. This morning I discover the new creamer opened, missing more than a coffee cup would call for, and a bowlful of creamer on the bathroom floor for the cat, who evidently does not care for French Vanilla.
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