“Laaayllaaa,” I hear.
“No.” I don’t even open my eyes to respond.
“Wake up, darling. We have things to do today!”
I feel a warm breeze on my face followed by the welcoming smell of fresh coffee. I crack open one eye and see mom holding a mug in front of me. I reach out for the cup but she pulls it away.
“No fresh bean juice until you put your feet on the floor.”
I groan, but sit up. Once my feet are on the floor, I greedily yank the cup out of her hand and blow on the brown creamy liquid, letting the steam waft up and collect on my face. “Wait, why are you being this nice to me?” I watch mom dart around the bedroom, opening the blinds and tidying up where our suitcases have exploded over the floor.
She doesn’t stop when she answers. “What are you talking about? I’m always nice to you
