Growing up, my mother would tour once a year with The Metropolitan Opera House and my father would be left to care for us on his own. I remember nights where we’d have breakfast for dinner. He wash’t the most social fellow, so he’d also let me read at the table.
It was heaven.
I spent a few hours reading the last hundred or so pages. Paused in the middle for melon + Girls…
…then tagged back in with a hot cup of chocolate.
Done by 11pm! Polished off The Good Bean Sweet Cinnamon to celebrate.
The book was FREAKING FABULOUS. I still have to think about how I feel about the ending.