Dim Sum For Breakfast

I was laying in bed when Katherine arrived this morning, my eyes closed, still ready to sleep, wanting to continue in my slumber. I heard the door open, heard her entry, her light footsteps padding about the entry hall. This gently rumble of noise woke me from my partial slumber, her voice softly asking me if I was ready to get up.

Outside my window, the snow is falling, ever so lightly, almost a white mist in the wind, tiny flakes blowing sideways as much as they fall down. The air is a brittle chill, snapping at the pedestrians, clinging to the cars going by on the street below. It's the kind of day where staying in bed seems like the best thing to do. Yet here she is, telling me to get up.

She asked me if I wanted Dim Sum. In my barely wakeful state, I said "no". I simply did not want to go through the effort of getting warmly dressed, driving to a Dim Sum restaurant, parking, unloading, wheeling in, wheeling about, wheeling out, loading, then driving home. I'd already decided we were not going out today, at least not if I had something to say about it.

Katherine disappeared, leaving me to slowly rouse myself. I could hear her clinking and clanking about in the kitchen, pots going here, water running there. I called out to ask what she was doing. She told me if I wanted to know, I would have to get up and see. She knows I cannot resist the curiosity. So I get up, struggling with the M-rail, forcing the transfer, ignoring the chill in my room which filters in from the winter outside.

I arrived in the kitchen to see what she had meant. She didn't want to go out for Dim Sum. Instead she had prepared it here at home, a full Dim Sum lunch with several selections of small goodies to eat. It was wonderful, sitting there just out of bed, smelling and tasting the bits and bites she had steamed up for us to eat. I ate too much. She ate too much. We both know that Dim Sum cannot go back in the fridge. Katherine actually admitted that perhaps she had made a bit too much.

Dim Sum did not survive our attack on the serving tray. It went, fast. I can still work my chop sticks, still feed myself, still eat more than I should. I am now replete, typing what I can while my body is busy digesting the morning's event. She is an amazing lady, doing so much to surprise and enthuse me, doing so much to make life interesting and good. Imagine it; Dim Sum for breakfast, at home. I don't get no better.