It was a few minutes after eight o’clock, and despite the fact that I didn’t have to work today, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. I kicked the comforter off my feet and rolled out of bed. Granny cooked breakfast every morning, and my stomach grumbled as the smell of biscuits and bacon wafted through the air. I stumbled to the kitchen in my pajamas and found Granny sitting at the table reading the paper. “That smells so good, Granny.” She looked up and flashed a brilliant smile. “Come on, honey, fix you a plate.” I sat down in the chair across from Granny and picked up the plate that she had already set out for me. I buttered a warm biscuit, spread strawberry jelly on it, and grabbed a couple of slices of bacon. Granny made the best, homemade, cat head biscuits that I had ever eaten, and I had suggested on more than one occasion that she should open a restaurant. I bit into the biscuit, savoring it.
