Breakfast
Cecilio stepped onto the balcony of his flat and took a deep breath, inhaling the essence of his city.
"Ah, Roma!" He let out a satisfied sigh- it looked like it was going to be a great day. He pulled on his uniform, accompanied by merry squeals and the clattering of cookware that meant that his son was entertaining himself with the pots and pans while Alonza cooked. As it always did, a smile crossed his face. Nothing in life could beat the pleasure of time with his family.
Well... policing came pretty close, he decided, tying his shoes.
"Good morning, darling," Alonza smiled over her shoulder as he joined them.
He kissed her cheek. "What's for breakfast?"
"I thought I'd whip up a nice omelet today. Would you mind taking Dante for a bit? I'm afraid he's determined to pull out all the pots today."
"All right, boy, let's leave your mama in peace," Cecilio announced, lifting the child from his percussion set.
"Pot!" Dante announced, reaching for his makeshift instruments.
"Yes, we have to put the pots away now."
"Pot!"
"No pot."
"Pot!"
Cecilio paused, glancing up at his wife's back for help.
"Oh, just hand him one. I'm almost finished."
"Er..." his eyes swept over the assembled options. "Which one?"
"It doesn't matter much, really."
"Pot!"
A question mark was still apparent on Cecilio's face. "Well... erm..."
Alonza sighed dramatically and turned away from the omelet. She scooped up a pot and handed it over to the infant.
"Isn't Papa a silly man?" she asked Dante with a teasing glance toward her husband. "Yes, he is! Can't even decide what to give his little boy!"
"Don't you go disparaging me to my boy!" Cecilio replied with exaggerated indignation, "Get back to the stove before you burn my omelet, woman!"
Alonza laughed. "I'd watch that tone of voice, if I were you, or you may not GET an omelet."
"Pot!" Dante repeated, banging on the one Alonza had given him. His parents laughed, then sat down to breakfast.
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