It was Sunday morning, a rare day for me. My mom prepared early to visit her friend’s place. It is just a typical brunch of my mom with her pals—which I do not see myself doing it.
“Hello, sweetheart! Good morning! It is still too early for you to get up. Why don’t you get more rest? It is Sunday.” My mom said as I checked her in the kitchen.
“Good morning, mom. I had an early sleep, do not worry. So, you are going to Ms. Amy’s place now?” I asked, tying up my hair.
“Yes, as I mentioned yesterday. And by the way, I brought you some ingredients for pasta.” She said while putting out the bag of tomatoes and grilled meat from the bags.
“Pasta? What is the occasion?”