Jim rolled over, reaching an arm out, only to find Blair's side of the bed already vacant. From downstairs came the smell of pancakes and eggs. Drawn by the delicious scents, he got up, put on his robe and headed downstairs.
"'Morning, Jim," Blair greeted him upon his arrival in the kitchen. "Hope you're hungry." He placed a plate full of steaming pancakes and eggs in front of his partner, and sat opposite him.
Laurene was sitting in her highchair, delightedly flinging oatmeal around the room with her spoon.
"No, no, Muffin," Blair said, capturing the spoon from messy hands. "Like this." He scooped up a small amount, and making airplane noises, flew the bite of cereal straight into the laughing mouth.
"Aren't you eating?" Jim asked.
"I ate earlier," Blair explained, flying another bite into Laurene's waiting mouth. "So, you have to go in today?"
"Yeah," Jim sighed. "It may be Columbus Day for the rest of the world, but the Police Department has to work. What are your plans?"
"Well, it's still Yom Kippur until sunset, so if I can get Laurene down for a nap later this morning, or this afternoon, I'll probably try meditating.
"That sounds like a plan," Jim agreed. "You don't look so good. A day of taking it easy should help."
"Yeah, I'm feeling a little nauseous, dizzy," Blair agreed. "Don't worry, I'll take it easy."
"Why don't you let me clean up the breakfast dishes? I'll even give Laurene her bath," Jim offered. "You head back to bed for a few extra winks."
"Sounds like a deal," Blair agreed, wearily pushing back from the table and standing. "You be good for your Papa," he admonished their daughter, who laughed and sprayed an oatmeal raspberry at her daddy. "She's all yours," Blair said, wiping the cereal spatter from his face. "Good luck." With that, he gratefully headed upstairs for a few extra minutes of sleep.
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