I am poor at telling a story “Darling, breakfast!” My grandma gave me a soft kiss when warm beams creeped up to my pillow. The sweet oat mikly porridge waked me up. “Nanny, do you have the time? ”I cultched her arm. “Nope, I am not gonna tell you, my sweetie” she wore her old-fashined glasses. Yes, you’re right. This old lady was my grandma.