Only one question remains: What does muffin mix look like? At least, I wager there’s muffin mix in here somewhere. The fridge is certainly not going to make this easy. Kimberly has a bit of everything in here. I see containers for our lunches and all kinds of things for dinner. Whatever she makes from those ingredients should be awesome. 

Breakfast, though – that’s what I have to find. Kimberly left a recipe for muffins beside the stove, so surely that’s what I’m looking for – Unless, she was planning to make from scratch this morning. 

Wait! All the lunches are on the middle shelf, and the random ingredients are on the bottom. So, look at that: there’s a single container of some goop on the top rack. Once again, Kim’s organization comes to my rescue. 

Now, all I need is a muffin pan to put the goop in; I wonder where one of those would be? Do we even have one of those? Surely, if Kimberly planned on making muffins; then we have a muffin pan – right?

Neither pantry on either side of the refrigerator have the desired item, so I move to the cream-colored cabinets on my way to the stove. 

“Levi, what are you looking for?” 

The confusion in that question equals my own. I whack my head on the cabinet as I pull myself from the pots and pans. I stand holding the container of goop. 

“Oh, that’s not where the muffin pans are,” Kimberly informs me from the opening to our kitchen between the living room bar and the dining area one.  Her mismatching pink and orange house socks betray the well-coordinated blouse and denim skirt. 

Still, at least, she confirms that I have the correct container. I say, “Yes, I see that. I found your muffin mix thanks to the amazing organization of the fridge. Unfortunately, I failed to get them in the oven before you got out of bed.” 

While speaking, I move to open the next cabinet, but I catch Kim’s light blue eyes darting to the oven. I chastise myself for not considering that. Obviously, things used in the oven would be below the oven. 

I slide down before Kim takes her first step. She assures me, “I’m here now, so I can do this. I can take care of you.” 

I say, “The most disappointing part,” as though I don’t how my wife, “is that I was unable to surprise you, but I did start the tea, and I am now one step away from finishing this.” 

“You don’t even have the oven pre-heating,” Kim says as she takes her first step onto our gray tile floor. 

About the same time, I find the elusive muffin tray. It lands in the middle of the stove, and I say, “Ah ha.” Then, I immediately fix the problem of an un-preheated oven.

Kimberly leans on the counter beside the sink; surely, she counts every drop of spilt muffin mix. Still, I manage to fill the muffin pan about the time that the kettle whistles. 

I say, “Dear, no worries. You are helping me; I would not have made it this far without your directions and preparation. My adventurous morning followed your little clues all around our kitchen. I’ve learned a lot about what’s in here. I’m already looking forward to dinner based on what’s in the fridge.” 

While I fill the tea pot, Kim shakes her head at the scene. She says, “Yes, but now the muffins will be way behind the tea. You should have started with the muffins.”

I shrug away her comment before putting the muffins in the oven and say, “Well, I figured I could make the tea, so I started there. Maybe we can drink one cup to reset our morning?” 

Her normally clear blue eyes close with a shake of her head. I can see the amusement at watching me in the kitchen wrestle with her frustration. She asks: “Nothing will restore this morning; why didn’t you wake me when you got up?” 

“You looked like you were getting some great sleep, so how could I wake you? Besides, I slept through the alarm too, so we were going to be behind anyway.” 

“Maybe,” she says, “but now we’ve missed half the morning. I’ll be swamped by emails, and you’ll miss your breakfast deliveries.” Her shoulders sag like a deflated balloon with that last line. 

I smile while pouring two cups of tea. “I pray the customers in the breakfast crew will survive. Anyway, I assure you: Lunch orders will easily make up the lost revenue.”

“Still,” I concede while handing her a cup, “I am sorry for your deluge of emails. Nothing distracts a day like customers wanting updates. They should know by now that you’ll have things done brilliantly and on time.” 

I’m not sure if Kim blows on her tea to cool it or to blow away my comments. All she says: “Well, I must admit this tea is good. Would you, please, check the muffins; you forgot to set a timer.” 

I pull the muffin tray and hold it for Kim to see. She gives me a smirk with a single nod – a show of enjoyment and approval. She says, “I guess I have time for one muffin.”

With a laugh, I say, “I would hope so; you have to find out how I did. At least, that means I haven’t missed the most important Breakfast Crew member.”

She takes her muffin with a wink and crosses to the stove. After another cup of tea, she jerks her head to the dining area. Clearly, the direction that I’ve waited for all morning. Now, we can get this day started right.