The kitchen is dark except for a wedge of light from the refrigerator door. Since I am 5 years old, only food in the middle shelves is at my eye level, including a block of butter. I take the butter to the kitchen table and put it in the sugar bowl, then stir with one finger until the mixture is pale yellow and creamy.
I eat the cool, frosty confection with one finger, sucking the last off with my tongue. I place the empty bowl under the faucet in the sink, running hot water over it slowly and silently. After wiping the bowl dry with a dishtowel, I put it in the cupboard.
I sneak back to bed.