I thought Mom was still in bed this morning when I rose because her door was shut. (She had stayed in her room most of last night after I had a serious talk with her as a result of her coming out twice in fifteen minutes.)
However, when I got to the kitchen I discovered a Hansel & Gretel-like trail of Cheerios leading around into the living room. Mom was half sitting, half lying on the couch, starting to nod off. She had just finished breakfast, which she had made herself: a bowl of cereal and half a banana. She had even poured milk on the cereal and used a spoon instead of her normal snacking practice of eating handsful dry from the box. The only thing she was missing was coffee. I had set the coffeemaker the night before but she didn't know it was primed to go if she just pushed the button.
When I asked her if she'd had enough she allowed that she had not so I gave her a second bowl of Cheerios (her favorite chocolate ones this time) and her coffee.
She offered me the other half of the banana but I wasn't sure how she had cut it, there being no used knife anywhere around and the real possibility, based on an examination of the wounded banana, that she had used a pen, toe nail scissors or her teeth, caused me to decline in favor of a glass of orange juice.
After a long spell of insomniac nights, I'm hoping this portends a return to more normal sleep habits and more daytime awareness.
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