I got up and started cooking breakfast; eggs, sausage, grits, pancakes. The girls were happy.
We sat and ate and, I don't know how it started but before I knew it I was telling them stories from my life.
Periodically I would ask them if they were bored, they said they weren't, they wanted to hear more.
This went on for quite a while.
I felt like my grandmother. She always told us stories and we always wanted to hear more. Her life was hard and then it was good and then funny then sad and sometime far fetched, unbelievable and miraculous.
She knew how to tell a story. It was always interesting.
I'm glad I got some of that from her.
I really should finish my book.