It was early November, a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. Nicola was in the kitchen with Albert making a list of food needed for the upcoming holiday. The pantry shelves were scanned and the cabinets were checked. While they were doing this, Nicola kept an eye on Iris sitting at the table, eating a few slices of orange. The fruit was way too ripe and the juice started running down her chin and hands and onto her white shirt.
“Oh, sweetie…” Nicola smiled, then ran a clean dishtowel under the faucet and wrung out the excess water.
She moved to the table and bent over Iris.
“You're so messy, my little lamb,” she said, wiping the little girl's sticky hands.
“I’m messy,” Iris repeated.
“That's right. You’re a messy missy…”
She wiped Iris's face and then kissed her cheek.
“Let's see h
