This morning at breakfast
You will not believe it, but she has been thinking about it since Tuesday evening. In fact, shortly before you came home from work that day and just after the kids had finished their homework, she went into the kitchen to soak the lentils. And just after the dinner table was cleared, she had second thoughts about the amount of rice in the mixture and added quarter-of-a-cup more. The next morning, she went in to see if the pulses had soaked though and as soon as you were out of the house, she drained the water and ground the lentils and rice to a soft paste. This was not easy as the blade in the grinder had gone blunt. So she poured the batter back into a pot and unscrewed the blade from the grinder and replaced it with the spare one. This time the batter turned out smooth with no lumps or bumps. Satisfied with the result, she left the pot in the far corner of the kitchen to ferment.
This morning, she woke up 20 minutes before her usual time to get the accompanying chutneys ready for breakfast. The results are there in front of you. Steaming hot and straight off the pan. You wolf it down as you skim through the newspaper. I know you're pre-occupied with that client meeting this morning. But before you go, tell her that it was really nice. She will probably dismiss it with a wave of a hand. But after you're gone, she'll break into a smile. Brighter than the morning sun.