Flash Fiction |
My Miracle Child “Mom, can you play with me?” four-year-old Sandy asked. Mom looked down, “Later Honey, I have work to do right now” she turned back to breakfast clean-up. A while later, “Mommy, are you done yet? Will you play with me?” “Not yet Honey, I still have work to do.” “What kind of work?” “Well, now that the kitchen’s cleaned from breakfast, I have to do some more cooking.” “Isn’t cooking for breakfast?” “Well, yes, breakfast for us, and Dad, then lunch sometimes, and dinner. You do like dinner, don’t you?” “Yes, but it’s after breakfast now, and lunch is a long time away…” “True, but today I need it make a cake.” “Can I help?” Mom was set back, “You want to cook? You don’t even like to pour your own cereal!” “Because it always comes out not enough, or too much! Pouring cereal is tricky.” Laughing, Mom said, “I never thought of that. I guess it is tricky! So… how about yes, you can help me make the cake.” “Is it for us?” Sandy said, excited. “No…it’s for the Bake Sale, but… if we make extra batter we could make some cupcakes for us at the same time.” “Ooh! Let’s do that!!” Mom looked at Sandy, she was really excited! She never seemed interested before, and she was so young. Mom never thought to involve her in the cooking but, mostly because she herself only did required cooking. … They had a great time. Sandy took to cooking just like she learned to walk, quickly and with excitement in every step. After that she wanted to be involved in all the cooking and by age eight she was making whole meals on her own. And Mom started calling Sandy ‘My Miracle Child’ (mostly, though, because Mom secretly hated cooking…) |