When I woke up the next morning I was a bit unsure if last night was real or just a dream. As the sun began to beam on my face and reality settled in my head, I knew it wasn't a dream, and I wondered if I'd ever have another encounter with the "Brooklyn Leader" again. After getting out of bed I put on a robe, and walked out into the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon permeated the apartment. I looked over towards the stove and found papa cooking. I leaned against the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room, and found peace. It seemed like old times. When I was a kid I'd always wake up to my father cooking by the stove. I almost felt like a child again.
"Good morning, Chère, How'd you sleep?" He asked. He knew me to well, he didn't even have to turn around to know I was there.
"Fine papa. You don't have to make me breakfast you know, I'm old enough to make it myself."
"Here." He replied placing a hot plate on the table for me. "Eat this and amuse an old man."
"Thank you papa." I replied kissing him on the forehead as I walked over to the table. I sat there and ate my warm breakfast and everything seemed perfect.
I was about done with my plate when I heard a knock at the door. Papa and I looked at each other wondering who could be at the door. After about the third knock I walked over to the door and answered it.
"Spot!" I cried out, stunned to see him. "What are you doing here?"
"I'se thought youse might wanna go somewhere, as friends of coise." He replied with his charismatic smile.
"You came all the way out here to ask me if I wanted to go somewhere?" I asked a little taken back with disbelief.
"Ya."
"O.k..." I hesitated. " Meet me down stairs." After that I scurried to my room and got dressed in record time. I then scurried out of my room and into the kitchen, gave papa a big kiss, and then ran out the door.
