It’s 9.30am, about to have a lazy Sunday morning breakfast.
I’ve already had one coffee, and T1 is making me another. Fine barista skills this boy, makes the milk as frothy as air. As for the strength of the coffee itself, well, that can be hit and miss. I don’t complain; I figure I’m lucky he makes it for me. Plus, I don’t want to exacerbate his already fragile and sensitive soul.
But breakfast awaits – bye for now and have a good day!