The Flour Blizzard (Prompt #7)

Mom would be home soon from a long day of shopping at that place she goes every Monday.  What was it called?  Oh yeah, the groshy store; something like that.  But I was going to surprise her!  She would be so excited to come home and find dinner already cooked and ready to eat!  I knew she hated the macaroni and cheese out of the box, so I’d cook her the real stuff, the homemade stuff.  It’d be great.  I had made the box stuff before, so this can’t be that much harder right?

She had left the recipe book on the table, perfect!  I flipped quickly to the right page, the one with the big picture of perfect golden cheesy noodles.  My stomach growled and I grinned.

I began scampering around the kitchen quickly to find all the ingredients.  Every once in a while I would glance over at the garage door, begging it not to make a noise and open up to reveal my mom.  If she got home before I finished, the surprise would be ruined!

There was only one more ingredient to be retrieved: flour.  I knew where it was, but unfortunately it was in the highest cabinet in the kitchen.  Its height mocked me; I had always been a short child.  But I wasn’t deterred!  I pulled a chair from the kitchen table up next to the cabinet and slid the sliding door open.  Stretching as far as I could, I reached the flour bucket and pulled it forward.  Grabbing it by the lid I pulled it victoriously out of the cabinet.

Horrified I looked over at the garage door, for I could hear my mom’s van pulling into the garage.  Just as I turned to curse her untimely return, I learned a very valuable lesson.  Holding containers by their lid is not the most secure way to go about things.  In slow motion the rubber lid lost its grip on the container.   My mom entered the room to find that it had snowed cooking ingredients all over her spotless kitchen.  She gaped at her daughter, who was standing an a chair holding a lid and looking terrified.

My little sister, who had come running to see what happened, pointed at me and said, “she did it!”  As if it wasn’t obvious.  I was the only thing not covered in white.  I closed my eyes and swore that I would never cook again.