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Comfort food |
Cinnamon Toast Cinamon sugar sinking into melting butter slathered on hot toast. A few extra shakes from my grandmother's cinnamon sugar tin for good measure. Maybe, just one more. Or two. When the butter can't hug anymore, there's finally enough. Cut into bite-sized pieces, armed with paper towels and a book, settle into the comfy nook by the fire. Cuddle in. Memories crowd the words on the page. Littles snuggled in, of late, the dog jockeying for perfect position, Lasor eyes watching every single move. Feel good moments, memories wrap me in a fuzzy blanket as the cinnamon sugar bliss cocoons. Everything is instantly better. Always. Every single time. |