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100 Stories // * 8. Gratitude for the best day of the week; Monday.

Every Monday feels like Christmas now. The familiar smells of breakfast cooking - yes, a cooked breakfast! - first thing in the morning, gently easing me from my sleep. Lengthy mornings spent at the dining table with Mama Daisy, enjoying freshly brewed coffees from the machine. The way family conversations slip and slide around the house, laughter and nonsensical chats weaving amongst more serious chats (well, usually about the food shop, but you know). Evenings are spent in the lounge again, chain-watching dramas and sipping drinks. Just without the biscuits and prosecco. Home-cooked food by Dad and a whole team effort for the cleaning up process.

Mondays when I was growing up were all about breakfasts and drinking cups of hot Milo before jumping in the car and heading to primary school. I bloody loved reading and literacy. Then they were about jumping back in the car home and indulging in having Dad home, playing pool on our pool table whilst my brother and I played and read underneath, using Dad as an assault course and enjoying his homemade food.

After 9 years spent with my parents working 10am-11pm shifts, 7 days a week, it really does feel like Christmas to have them home once a week again.

Which is your favourite day of the week?

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