Breakfast happened in stages, the way all things happened in the sanctuary—gradually, with interruptions, and with someone getting into something they weren't supposed to get into (Siddy; the crystal honey syrup barrel; he'd pried the lid up with his tail and was discovered licking the stopper with the expression of someone who considered this a private moment).
"Siddy," Sally said, not looking up from her notebook.
"I was checking if it was still good," Siddy said.
"It was sealed."
"I was just checking."
Sally wrote something in her notebook. "I'll tell your mom. "
"Everything that happens in this family need not get to reach Mama's ears," Siddy muttered.
" Well your mama is the head of this family and everything that happens here eventually reaches his ears so I don't think you can do anything about it. " Sally replied.
