Only after becoming parents do you realize, the bond between your child and you truly resonates through your bloodline.
Hearing the movement, Krista Schroeder turned around and saw him holding the child, rubbing his beard forcefully against him. Caesar was pushing back with his small hands, voicing his displeasure with grunts.
"You're awake."
Victor nodded, looking at the food on the table, his tone softening, "We have maids at home. Why not let them handle it?"
"They're already tired, and besides, I wanted to find something to do myself. You can eat now—this is Mexican oatmeal porridge, with abalone and saffron inside." Krista Schroeder served him a bowl.
A rare and relaxing morning.
As it turns out, as long as the Yanks don't cause a fuss, life in Mexico can actually be quite pleasant. The smaller North American countries nearby are all in a wait-and-watch mode.
It also affirms a certain principle.
Sleeping in someone else's bed, truly at ease.
