March 6th, 1991
The sun was already up when Frankie began showing signs of fatigue, starting with droopy eyelids that ended up shut, but only after she slumped off the couch onto the floor in the most spectacular way! I didn’t see the need in rousing her out of what sounded like deep slumber, so I covered her with a blanket, stuck a cushion under her head and went to bed!
Didn’t stir ‘til after two this afternoon and only because the radio was being blasted downstairs.
“Morning,” Frankie chirped when she spotted me shuffling down the stairs. “I have an idea!”
“Hopefully it involves tea, toast and closing the blinds,” I said, shielding my eyes from the light streaming through the French doors.
“Let’s go to London!”
“When?” I yawned.
“Now! Well, when you’re ready. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
I made a groaning sound she chose to ignore. “Wake up, you!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around me. “I’ll make you tea and toast but only if you promise we can go to London.”
I groaned again but had to laugh when Frankie playfully shook her tiny fists in my direction.
“Well?” she asked, expectantly.
“Deal,” I smiled. “But only if you turn the music down. My head is throbbing.”
“Woo-hoo,” she yelled. “Buttery toast and lashings of tea coming right up. But the music stays on!”
And off to London we go!