The sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window highlights a faint stain on the ceiling tile in the shape of a dropped cookie, reminding me of my five-year-old self enthusiastically attempting to 'feed' the cat its first ever peanut butter cup.
I try not to think about how unimpressed Max was, just blinking slowly, his whiskers twitching as he took a tiny lick before swishing it away.
Mom would always laugh it off, scrubbing away at the splatter with a damp sponge and a patient smile, her own eyes crinkled in delight.
Those were the moments, messy and imperfect, when I thought maybe I was capable of making even Max smile.
I try not to think about how unimpressed Max was, just blinking slowly, his whiskers twitching as he took a tiny lick before swishing it away.
Mom would always laugh it off, scrubbing away at the splatter with a damp sponge and a patient smile, her own eyes crinkled in delight.
Those were the moments, messy and imperfect, when I thought maybe I was capable of making even Max smile.
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