Breakfast

Today was too bright to be blue. My sister made me an aunt for the first time two years ago when she got married to a man who already had a daughter. I love this little girl. She is 7. I get to see her twice a year at the most. My husband and I took the day off work to completely devote to her. I arrived to see her at 9 a.m. She had just woken up and was suffering from an extreme case of bed-head which my sister made me promise to fix before we ventured in public. I couldn't help but picture what she does in her sleep to create such a mess. I laughed to myself as I imagined her doing a series of twists and turns. I poured her a bowl of frosted mini-wheats (her favorite...not mine). She picked up a piece loaded with frosting. I pretended to eat it and it fell off her spoon onto the floor. The loss of sugar made her cry. I laughed...then felt bad...held back more laughter...then dug through the giant bag to locate another equally coated piece. It was a success. Our conversation over breakfast consisted of dogs, cold milk, and dancing. Yes...the dancing. She said dancing is in her blood. That it just comes naturally. She hears music and her feet know what to do. She paused eating for the purpose of proving her skills to me. I couldn't argue. And she danced. I couldn't tell you what exactly she was doing. It wouldn't do it justice. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen. She finished her routine and humbly sat down to finish her mini-wheats. I smiled and finished mine too.