Carrot Cake 8, Coffee 28: Boring Would Be Nice For Once
Title: Boring Would Be Nice For Once
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 8 (look), coffee 28 (knife), cherry (no dialogue except one line), malt (crescent_gaia's stocking prompt: "Don't disturb my circles!" --Archimedes).
Word Count: 828.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Parenting three very odd children produces some very odd days, or, in which Aaron has weird habits and Summer is a ninja.
Notes: This is silly. I have no excuse.
The table knives were missing. Gail was almost afraid to find out why.
It wasn't fair. She'd just gotten home from work and all she wanted was a piece of toast to tide her over until dinner, but the table knives were missing, and she wasn't about to use one of the sharp ones just to spread jam on her toast. It would be nice if her children would be normal just once... although, upon further reflection, she'd probably have to check them for signs of alien possession should that happen. Normal was for losers and the boring, as Ivy would say, and Gail had no desire to be bored.
Which did not get her the table knives back. All right. One at a time.
There was no earthly reason Gail could think of that Summer would take a dozen table knives. This did not cover quite a few reasons that her youngest and oddest child might come up with-- Summer appeared to spend quite a lot of her time orbiting Saturn-- but somehow Gail still couldn't picture her making off with eating utensils. Besides (and more practically), she'd just seen Summer peacefully doing her homework in her bedroom. So it probably wasn't her. And Ivy wouldn't take them, she didn't think. Ivy didn't usually need knives-- at least, not blunt ones-- for whatever travesty she was planning in the name of science, and when she did she only needed a few, and only for a short while.
Aaron, Gail was less certain about. Not that he made a habit of threatening people with table knives, but he had recently gotten on some kind of kick where he built things out of random household objects and posted pictures of them on the internet. Gail would have been more amused by this had he not, whenever anyone needed to use the objects he'd taken, refused to let his constructions be deconstructed. Nathan was no help; he thought it was hilarious and, from an architectural standpoint, fascinating.
Last time it had been a scale model of London Bridge with two cans of cooking spray, several rulers of various sizes, the little slates she'd gotten for Summer to practice writing on and miscallaenous tubes of makeup stolen from her, his mother, and Ivy, as well as an assortment of other items she'd never seen before in her life. It had taken up the coffee table for a week.
She'd had to resort to bribing Summer to "accidentally" knock the constructions over.
Maybe he'd decided to build the Effiel Tower this time, and needed knives.
Gail went through the kitchen, stubbornly devoid of table knives, and into the living room, and was extremely surprised to see that no such project had sprung up on the table during her work day. Nor was there any sign of it in Aaron's bedroom. She checked Ivy's room just in case, but there was no sign of the missing knives. And of course they weren't in the dishwasher, she'd already checked...
She went back into the kitchen, and found Summer, lying on her stomach, solemnly building a corral for the cat. Out of the missing knives. Which she must have pulled out of absolutely nowhere, because they certainly hadn't been in the kitchen the last time Gail checked; nor, for that matter, had Summer.
Had the girl learned to teleport when Gail wasn't looking?
Reclaiming the knives and shooing Summer back to her homework was a matter of minutes. Fortunately Summer hadn't been too attached to that particular project, since the cat wasn't cooperating and the knives weren't very stackable. There was no guarantee her homework would keep her attention any longer, since kindergartners did not get particularly engrossing assignments, but Gail had the knives back and at the moment that was all she really cared about.
She made her way back to the kitchen, mentally sorting through the contents of the refrigerator and wondering if it wouldn't be better to order pizza for the night. After all, she had no idea if Aaron would eat with them that night, or his mother, or Lars, or just at some little eatery he'd found during his daily home-from-college ramble. Ivy might not eat with her parents either; she'd just discovered the joys of "going to a friend's house, Mom, bye!" and often didn't bother to call home. Nathan was having a wretched few days at work and wouldn't care what he ate.
So pizza it was. She'd get herself some toast, maybe a cup of coffee and sit down for a little while before she ordered it, though. Just two minutes of peace and quiet, that was all she wanted. Assuming she could even remember what that felt like.
She pulled open the drawer to grab the long-coveted knife and paused, eyes narrowing.
Somehow, in the time between hustling Summer back to her homework and getting back into the kitchen, the forks had disappeared.
"For heaven's sake!"
Main Story: In the Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Carrot cake 8 (look), coffee 28 (knife), cherry (no dialogue except one line), malt (crescent_gaia's stocking prompt: "Don't disturb my circles!" --Archimedes).
Word Count: 828.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Parenting three very odd children produces some very odd days, or, in which Aaron has weird habits and Summer is a ninja.
Notes: This is silly. I have no excuse.
The table knives were missing. Gail was almost afraid to find out why.
It wasn't fair. She'd just gotten home from work and all she wanted was a piece of toast to tide her over until dinner, but the table knives were missing, and she wasn't about to use one of the sharp ones just to spread jam on her toast. It would be nice if her children would be normal just once... although, upon further reflection, she'd probably have to check them for signs of alien possession should that happen. Normal was for losers and the boring, as Ivy would say, and Gail had no desire to be bored.
Which did not get her the table knives back. All right. One at a time.
There was no earthly reason Gail could think of that Summer would take a dozen table knives. This did not cover quite a few reasons that her youngest and oddest child might come up with-- Summer appeared to spend quite a lot of her time orbiting Saturn-- but somehow Gail still couldn't picture her making off with eating utensils. Besides (and more practically), she'd just seen Summer peacefully doing her homework in her bedroom. So it probably wasn't her. And Ivy wouldn't take them, she didn't think. Ivy didn't usually need knives-- at least, not blunt ones-- for whatever travesty she was planning in the name of science, and when she did she only needed a few, and only for a short while.
Aaron, Gail was less certain about. Not that he made a habit of threatening people with table knives, but he had recently gotten on some kind of kick where he built things out of random household objects and posted pictures of them on the internet. Gail would have been more amused by this had he not, whenever anyone needed to use the objects he'd taken, refused to let his constructions be deconstructed. Nathan was no help; he thought it was hilarious and, from an architectural standpoint, fascinating.
Last time it had been a scale model of London Bridge with two cans of cooking spray, several rulers of various sizes, the little slates she'd gotten for Summer to practice writing on and miscallaenous tubes of makeup stolen from her, his mother, and Ivy, as well as an assortment of other items she'd never seen before in her life. It had taken up the coffee table for a week.
She'd had to resort to bribing Summer to "accidentally" knock the constructions over.
Maybe he'd decided to build the Effiel Tower this time, and needed knives.
Gail went through the kitchen, stubbornly devoid of table knives, and into the living room, and was extremely surprised to see that no such project had sprung up on the table during her work day. Nor was there any sign of it in Aaron's bedroom. She checked Ivy's room just in case, but there was no sign of the missing knives. And of course they weren't in the dishwasher, she'd already checked...
She went back into the kitchen, and found Summer, lying on her stomach, solemnly building a corral for the cat. Out of the missing knives. Which she must have pulled out of absolutely nowhere, because they certainly hadn't been in the kitchen the last time Gail checked; nor, for that matter, had Summer.
Had the girl learned to teleport when Gail wasn't looking?
Reclaiming the knives and shooing Summer back to her homework was a matter of minutes. Fortunately Summer hadn't been too attached to that particular project, since the cat wasn't cooperating and the knives weren't very stackable. There was no guarantee her homework would keep her attention any longer, since kindergartners did not get particularly engrossing assignments, but Gail had the knives back and at the moment that was all she really cared about.
She made her way back to the kitchen, mentally sorting through the contents of the refrigerator and wondering if it wouldn't be better to order pizza for the night. After all, she had no idea if Aaron would eat with them that night, or his mother, or Lars, or just at some little eatery he'd found during his daily home-from-college ramble. Ivy might not eat with her parents either; she'd just discovered the joys of "going to a friend's house, Mom, bye!" and often didn't bother to call home. Nathan was having a wretched few days at work and wouldn't care what he ate.
So pizza it was. She'd get herself some toast, maybe a cup of coffee and sit down for a little while before she ordered it, though. Just two minutes of peace and quiet, that was all she wanted. Assuming she could even remember what that felt like.
She pulled open the drawer to grab the long-coveted knife and paused, eyes narrowing.
Somehow, in the time between hustling Summer back to her homework and getting back into the kitchen, the forks had disappeared.
"For heaven's sake!"
