Saturday morning.The light shows up like it's got a key.Golden. Confident. Everywhere.Across the brand-new kitchen, spotlighting the coffee setup he swears is "just a hobby."
He's in deep. Milk jug ready. Brow furrowed. Concentration high.The dog's positioned perfectly for fallout.She's sipping the good mug, the one he's not allowed to touch, pretending not to see that his "heart" looks like a map of Australia.He's getting better though.He says that every week.
