The mornings were the quietest time in the Tibbits household. (Which wasn't saying too much, but.) So it had always been, and so it would always be. Both Emma and Jacob were early birds, but they were relatively quiet early birds. Em just wanted to be left alone until she had her cup of coffee. And Jacob, without fail, could be found in the kitchen, whipping up one thing or another. Today was no different.
Already dressed and bright eyed, the man stood at the counter and busied himself stirring the waffle batter. The waffle iron was already working on the beginnings of breakfast when Cori came downstairs. Jacob looked up from his work and smiled at his bedheaded granddaughter. He gave her a wave when she said good morning, then bent to grab a pan for some eggs.
He spied the little hand of his granddaughter shoot out toward the coffee pot. Cori could hope all she wanted, but Jacob, old though he may be, wasn't blind. Walking up behind her as she sat at the table, Jacob reached over her and whisked the mug out of her hands. He took a sip, exaggeratedly grimaced, then shook his head. He set the mug on the counter by the batter and signed to Cori: 'You're sweet enough without five pounds of sugar, kiddo. How about some orange juice?'