As I lay in bed Tuesday morning, waiting for the alarm to go off, I thought I smelled something. I pondered whether it was the remnants of the fajitas I’d made Monday night. As I’d cooked the chicken for the fajitas outside on the grill, that didn’t seem likely. I lifted my head and looked out in the hall. There weren’t any lights on, so maybe I was just imagining things. But as the smell grew, I knew it wasn’t fajitas and I wasn’t imagining things.
With some fear and trepidation, I headed downstairs. Daughter was in the kitchen, beaming. In front of her were two plates with eggs scrambled with potatoes and cheese and raisin toast. When she saw me, she handed me something to drink. “Here, you’re going to need this. I wanted to be like you, and I put season salt on the potatoes, but I think I used a bit too much.”
Resigning myself to a big breakfast, I took my plate to the table. The eggs were, indeed, salty. But at least they were still warm, as was the toast. She had even soaked the dehydrated potatoes in hot water before cooking them, as per the directions. This was major progress. The last time she’d used the dehydrated potatoes, she hadn’t bothered to rehydrate them. When I saw the resulting mess, I’d asked if she’d followed the package directions. “You told me to read them; you didn’t say I had to follow them!”
This breakfast was her peace offering for her behavior the previous evening, when she’d ranted and raved about her boyfriend. It was the first time I’d eaten one of these peace offerings when everything was still warm. She has problems juggling multiple projects in the kitchen, so her ability to serve warm eggs and toast was major progress.
The eggs were salty, had a bit too much cheese, but I ate them and was grateful. My body was not so grateful, though. By evening my legs were so swollen that the skin was tight and uncomfortable. In this heat, it will probably take a week of low sodium meals before my diuretic manages to get the excess fluid off. It will come off, though, and Daughter was very proud of her accomplishment. I thanked Daughter for making breakfast for me. She went on to have a very good day.