do you want me to wake you for breakfast?

Riding high in first class, I had a glass of Italian wine, and saluted God, who gives me so often so much better than I deserve, so much more than I deserve. Riding first class, without paying for the upgrade, I kept watching what others were doing. I was new to this world in the air. Exploring on my own all the buttons and prompts, I was like a kid left loose in a toy shop, having been told I could have and play with anything I wanted. The “seat tilt” button took me back and back and back and flat and flat and flat, until I lying in bed. After dinner the flight attendant asked me if I wanted her to wake me for breakfast about an hour and a half outside Paris. Of course, I wanted the quiche. It was free! A real bed, a real pillow, a real blanket and a full tummy, I tucked myself in. I thought about asking her to tuck me in, and read me a story or sing me a song, but no one else seemed to be doing that. The next thing I knew, she woke me for breakfast.