trip to a Sicilian bakery

“I’m going kind of stir-crazy,” I admitted to my husband on the phone.  He was in Greece for work and I was stuck at home with a toddler.

“Why don’t you go see if the pet store is open?” Elliott suggested.  “Lena would love that.”

The pet store is awesome, and I think Elliott and I enjoy trips there almost as much as Lena does.  Unfortunately, we have a suspicion that it is a cover for some kind of operation (perhaps related to a popular 1970s movie trilogy?).  It is closed at weird times almost all the time and I have been told to leave very suddenly when the owner gets a phone call and suddenly has to rush out the door, jump in his Mercedes SUV, and tire-squeal off to some urgent business.

But that is neither here nor there.

Suffice it to say, the pet store was closed again that day.  However, since we had come so far, we kept walking to our favorite little biscotteria.  I guess you could roughly translate biscotteria as “cookie store”? 

I love this place.  Just walking inside makes me so happy.

                                                                                                               ^ “Mom, you da bomb.  Thanks for the cookie.”