Anthony had two requests for breakfast this morning: an apple and a bowl of pear soup.
The apple was easy enough – sliced and with the skin removed, just as he likes it.
But pear soup? My mind raced for a moment until he padded off into the kitchen and returned with this:
Pears. In a can. Or, in Anthony speak, pear soup.
So I poured them into a bowl, and breakfast was served.