“Here comes the choo-choo train…”
I held the spoonful of porridge up to Anna’s mouth, making a soft train sound as I tried to feed her. She stared at me like I’d grown five heads.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Why? You don’t like porridge?” I said without missing a beat, dipping the spoon back into the small cooler I’d brought from home. “This isn’t that bland hospital food. It’s still plain because the doctor said no oil yet so it’ll do for now. You just need to recover quickly. When we get home, I’ll welcome you back with a real meal.”
I brought the spoon closer. She frowned, clearly debating whether to give in, her little mind working hard. Finally, she opened her mouth, and I fed her.
“I’m not a child,” she grumbled.
I laughed softly. “Of course you are. You’re just a baby, Anna. Y
