4. Rats in the Kitchen?!?

“What? Why? What’s going on?” Her mother raced around the corner into the kitchen, almost careening into Jason, who complained about lack of respect for the chef.

Dad wandered in, a little calmer than mom, who always panicked right away. Why wait, when you can panic? He straightened his tie, “what’s going on? What’s this about cats?”

“Rats, dad. Mimi says we have rats in the house.”

“I didn’t say we had them in the house, I said in the compost.”

Susy considered this, “you mean just in the kitchen?”

“No Susy, in the compost. The comm-posstt.” Stretching and emphasizing each syllable to make herself heard and hopefully to convey the intense irritation that her little sister subjected her to. “That large black bin we drop our banana peels and mom and dad’s coffee grounds into… the one you pull all the snails off in the summer? Know what I mean?”

Susy brightened, “oh, you mean my worm farm!”

Yech. That’s all I can say about little sisters, thought Mimi, mercifully remembering to keep her thoughts to herself. Mom never appreciated Mimi’s helpful suggestions about what to do about Susy.    

3. The Goofy Smile

“No goofy smile. Just an appreciation for the world and its beauty”, she retorted.

He side-eyes her. “You’re up to something. Or you’re in love again. Dear God, don’t let it be love again. We can’t take another Mimi love affair!” He reaches for her, “will I have to step in and protect you again? Be your big brother?”

“You are my big brother”, she answered, “even if you don’t always act like it.” She let him hug her, but only for a second before flicking him with a dish towel. “Get off; you’ll mush my hair.”

“I think I got a little batter in it. Sorry. Interesting look, though. It makes you seem so, so domestic.”

“I am domestic”; she said indignantly. “I cook, clean… my room’s like a spa compared to yours. And my breakfasts are the family favorites.”

“According to who?”

“Me. Mom, everyone. Ask Dad – he likes them and Susy actually eats the breakfasts I make. She doesn't hide them and pretend like with yours.”

“What? Susy loves my breakfasts! She says they’re her favorites and always comes back for seconds”

“Look in the compost bin, is all I say. Then tell me how much she’s been eating. Remember the lavender-mushroom French toast with edible lilies? Compost. What hasn’t composted so well is the raw steak bryani omelet from a couple of weeks ago. I think that’s why the RATS are there.” Spitting out the word rats.

Susy jumped. “Rats? Really? Mimi, are you just bugging me or are you telling the truth?” “MOM! DAD! ARE THERE RATS IN THE KITCHEN?”

2. The Kitchen

The kitchen was a nightmare: eggs everywhere, dripping down cabinets and off the stove. Several had formed interesting-looking stalagmites – or is it stalactites?. She frowned, pondering which was up and which was down.

Why would they make those words so similar? And so unrelated to what they were? Why not up-pointer and down-pointer, or attached-to-floor and attached-to-ceiling? Flooractites and roofactites.

“Get out of the way”, her brother pushed past her. “This pan is hot! And I need to get to the sink. Move it or lose it…. Move it or burn it.” He scrubbed the steaming pan. “And eat before it gets soggy!” He turned to look at her. “What makes you so very late this morning and why the goofy smile?” 

1. A Story For Tria

“What a beautiful day!” Mimi ran down the stairs, tossing her long hair out of the back of her sweater. “What’s for breakfast?”

Today was not her day to make breakfast. They all take turns, her mom and dad, her annoying brother Jason, who admittedly was starting to earn his keep by bringing cute friends home. Her little sister Susie was also supposed to share in the breakfast-making, but she always fumbled enough so that someone else would take over. Little sisters never have to do any work.

Mimi loved being able to sleep in those few extra minutes on days she didn’t have to cook. She loved cooking and took pride in her eggsellent breakfasts, but hey twenty minutes of extra sleep is twenty minutes she sure could use. Getting enough sleep when you’re a teenager is practically impossible. And staying up ‘til two am listening to old-school Chicago blues doesn’t help either.  ;)

Mimi had always loved blues. Even as a little kid, when she heard a blues song, she’d stand up and sway in her diaper, shaking her “cute little baby bum”. That’s what her parents called it when they talked about her, openly in front of friends and family. (And sometimes worse – sometimes they told her friends!) Her parents always told super embarrassing stories about the dumb things their kids did when they were little. Man, could they stop humiliating us in public? She doubted it. Mimi had decided that embarrassing your kids is just a form of mental illness that takes over your brain when you have kids. “I bet they can’t even help themselves”, she thought as she bounced down the steps and into the kitchen.