Thirty minutes later Noah, my 9-year-old, entered our bedroom carrying a cup of coffee, oblivious to the thin streams that were actively dripping down the side of the cup. Yes – time for leisure reading with a cup of java. He smiled in triumphant of his accomplishment as handed me the cup of coffee. He proudly told me the menu - hot, gluten-free biscuits, eggs and bacon and then ran back downstairs to rejoin the others.
Another fifteen minutes passed and Anastasia, who had turned
8 the day before, scurried into the room, “I made the biscuits all by myself
but the recipe only made three biscuits for some reason - weird, huh! So I’m