“Because you cook lovely meals for us all day. So you are my best chef.”
She laughed but joined in, posing with pots and pans in her hand.
As the family sat down for breakfast, the doorbell rang.
But the boy hadn’t even heard that. He was already at the door, taking the morning papers and clicking away as the newspaper man sat on his cycle and smiled at the kid.
“Dad, here your paper!” Hama said handing his father the newspaper. “Mumma, next?”
“Next? Food!” She said taking a bite into the toasted bread.