“Oh my god,” I moan, letting my head fall back against the wooden chair as I slowly chew the last bite of the muffin that I’ve crammed into my mouth. “It is so delicious. I can’t stand it.”
“Yeah!” I hear Alvin agree, even though my eyes are pressed shut. “Way better than a stinking granola bar.”
I groan, putting my hands on my swollen stomach, not knowing if I’d be able take another bite. Maybe ever again. Am I so full that I’ve made future hunger impossible?
“Ohhh, mama!” Alvin calls, and I open one eye, peaking at him as he uncovers a dish of chocolate croissants. “We didn’t see these! They’re still warm.”
And then, suddenly, I find room in my stomach.
“Hand me one,” I say, putting a hand out to my kid.
“Come and get it!” he teases, holding it up in the air just out of my reach.
