The Thought That Counted

Light. Glorious, beautiful light.

     I threw my arms over my head in a ginormous stretch. This was Monday and I liked it already. Pushing off the quilt, I jumped out of bed and flung my arms wide. I spun in the sunbeams until I was dizzy. When I stood still, the room continued to dip and swirl around me; a pleasing curiosity that I never tired of. Eventually, I knew it would stop and I could pick out my clothes for the day.

As my surroundings slowly sank back into their usual positions, I realized that something was missing from my morning routine. Mamma. She hadn't come in to wake me up. I ran out into the living room to find her, but she wasn't there. I traipsed through the dining room, kitchen, laundry room...no Mama.  This could only mean one thing:

Carefully, I tip-toed to her door and peaked into the dim interior. "Yes." I whispered to myself, full of glee,  "She's still asleep." What an opportunity for me. I would make her a surprise - but what? Quietly, I moved back into the hallway toward the kitchen. It was so still - like it was waiting for us. The refrigerator's motor rumbled to itself, the linoleum glistened in the daylight, and the faucet seemed peacefully preoccupied with the morning's disuse. I opened the cabinet that held our tableware and took out a white bowl; I was going to make our breakfast, I decided. I'd seen Mom do it lots of times.

"Let's see," I bit my lip, trying to think.

Before I'd gotten very far, I heard light footsteps coming down the hall. Dad was at work already, I knew. Mom and the baby were asleep in her room. This left only one other option.

I slammed the cabinet shut and whirled around to face the door, waiting. It could only be Kara. It was. Her big brown eyes blinked sleepily, still half-closed. Wild brown hair framed her small face and a gray, over-sized Mickey Mouse shirt hung past her knees. She yawned.

"Listen," I marched over to her and placed my hands firmly on her shoulders, "Mom's still asleep. I'm making breakfast to surprise her...and if you go in there and wake her up, I'll...I'll..."

She made a bored face. "I won't."

I breathed a sigh of relief, "Okay, then. Why don't you get a book to look at until she wakes up." I turned and began to work again. She shook her head, "I'm going to help you."

"But you can't help me; you're too little to know how to cook!" I opened another cabinet and my eyes searched for ingredients - something Mom would use. There was a clamor beside me while hands, knees and small feet scrambled up onto the counter.

"Hey..." she said, leaning on my shoulder and peering into the cupboard, "Those look good."

"No, can't use those," I stepped away from the counter and opened the fridge. "Mom uses eggs a lot though." I pursed my lips and thought...Yeah, that's where I needed to start - but how many? I counted slowly, there were three of us who could eat real food. The gray cardboard was rough and scratchy, and I shuddered while my fingers opened the carton; three eggs.

With  much effort, I tapped each one on the counter's edge to crack it - like Mom did - and pulled the shells apart, so their slimy, golden yolks could slip out and splash into my bowl. I opened another cabinet door; we needed more than just eggs to eat for breakfast, didn't we? I grabbed a box of crackers, opened it and pulled out a pack. I liked crackers, so they would probably make a good ingredient.

"How 'bout this?" Kara held out a bag of sweetened coconut flakes. (Mom liked to eat those with chocolate chips and nuts) "Good idea..." I said, crumbling a handful of crackers over the eggs. "Put it on the counter and I'll use some."

By the time we were done adding all the ingredients, we had acquired quite a sum:

Eggs - Everyone knew those were important.
Crackers - They had to be good.
Coconut Flakes - Mom liked 'em.
Sprinkles - I loved those.
Chocolate chips - because every thing tasted better with chocolate chips.
Yogurt - since we ate it for breakfast sometimes.
Cereal - just because.
And a little bit of milk and water.

Kara and I were sure this meal was going to be delicious, so I stirred it all up with a spoon, while she set out a few bowls, spoons and napkins; I sprinkled in some nuts. Just as I was wondering if there was anything else that we should add, I heard a delighted voice behind me, "Well, well, well..." and Mom's arms were around me. "What do we have here?" Kara stood by the table, grinning and biting her lip at the same time.

For some reason, I felt a bit shy, but I did my best to act like a grown up. "We made you breakfast this morning," I said, as if it were an everyday occurrence, "Do you want to sit down and try some? Of course she did. Mom and Kara sat down and I proudly carried the bowl to the table and dished it all out. In spite all of the colorful ingredients we had put into the concoction, I was surprised to see that the mixture was white... "Well, no matter," I thought. This was sure to be delicious.

Mom prayed for our food and took a bite. "Mmm," she said. "Thank you so much girls! Would you like me to make some eggs and toast to go with this?"

"Oh, no, that's okay - we put eggs in it already," I replied, quickly.

Pushing a spoon into my serving of "Breakfast casserole", I popped a bite into my mouth. It was then that I realized something was terribly wrong. An explosion of bland sourness overpowered my tongue. I sat very still for a moment, looking silently at Mom and Kara. When I had finally managed to swallow the stuff in my mouth, I agreed that some eggs and toast would be fine.

We all laughed while Kara and I headed to our bedroom to get dressed and Mom got out the frying pan.