My daughter walked into my home office with her latest creation, a homemade caramel iced latte from our kitchen coffee pot, the basic one not the one with all those fancy pods. Beaming with pride she sipped on this sweetness and described how she cracked the recipe code: just the right amount of syrup, and coffee, and milk. How the whipped cream and chocolate drizzle mimicked the one from the boutique coffee shop down the street.
In her excitement I noticed something... her hands were shaky, and so were her feet.
After celebrating with her for finally finding the perfect ratio I grinned and said, "I think your missing one thing."
She looked at me curiously as to what could be missing from this decadence her lips slurped through the straw.
“Your breakfast. You're wobbly and that tells me you didn’t eat.“
"Oh? yeah." She laughed.
We walked back to the kitchen together and I made her scrambled eggs and toast.