Emma was leaning so close, she could feel her breath on her face. Mom, Emma said, I have a great idea. Connie yawned and Emma tilted her head sideways and put her hands on her mother’s cheeks. We could have waffles. Connie was still half asleep. Ahuh? Emma gave her mom’s face a little squeeze. You could make them. That’s a great idea. Because I’m really really hungry, and I really think I need to eat a waffle, and we could have frozen blackberries and whipped cream and sit down and eat it as a family. That was a wily tug on Connie’s soft spot, mentioning the family like that. I’ll be there in a minute, okay, sweet pea? Just let me wake up here. Emma crossed her arms and puckered her mouth in a manner that expressed her impatience. Connie made spiders of her fingers and tried to grab her daughter, who squealed and hopped backwards, then ran out of the room. Connie looked over at Harlan, asleep with his jaw slack and his mouth open, a damp patch on the pillow under his face – this lack of discipline, even in sleep, annoying to her.
