“Excuse me.” Maga’s words were muffled by the food in her mouth. “I shouldn’t be eating this gooey thing while talking to you, but it’s so delicious.”
“What are you eating?”
“Something your mother sent me, I think.”
“Cookies?”
“No. Chocolate covered strawberries.”
“You do love your sweets.”
“I always have.”
Her obvious enjoyment outweighed the garbled words. Is this what things sound like to her when she doesn’t have her hearing aids in?
“I think your mother sent these.”
“She might have. She was just there.”
“Chocolate covered strawberries. Is this something she’d send?”
“It does sound like her, yes. It’s probably an early Valentine’s treat.”
“Did I send you a Valentine?”
“You did. I have it right here in my hands. I haven’t opened it yet. I’m saving it for tomorrow.”
“Don’t open it yet,” she said at the same time as me. “Save it for tomorrow.”
Looks like I inherited my sweet tooth and patience from her!
Abigail Mumford 