This is a bit of a funnier story, mostly because I'm done being deep for a while, :O. So please forgive me if you like that stuff.
Characters: Sister: Linda Brothers: Andrew, Mark, and Sam
Mom said the boys had to make dinner tonight. I tried to tell her they'd burn the whole house down, but of course she said they'd be fine.
I don't think Andrew (the oldest) even knew how to use a strainer...
"But, Moooom! They'll ruin your kitchen! Last time they made dinner they gave up. And made us toast. Burnt toast." I complained. "Come on, dear. It's been almost year.
I'm sure they can handle this." Mom looked down like she didn't even believe herself.
"Are you even going to watch them?" I asked.
"Course not, honey. I have to do the laundry." I sighed. The boys came crashing downstairs, running into each other.
"Andrew, Mark, and Sam. Boys you're making dinner tonight. Anything you want." Mom dropped the news on them.
Their faces immediately fell. "Mom, I burned my hand last time!" Sam reminded. "And, I-"
"No excuses boys. Kitchen, now." Mom turned on her heel (which she deserves some SERIOUS respect for) and walked into the laundry room.
2 hours later...
I heard crashes from the kitchen, and I walked in. Immediately I face palmed. Oh, God. Help me now... I thought.
Sam (the youngest) was covered in flour, Mark (the middle child, along with me) was throwing forks at Andrew, and Andrew was screaming at Sam because apparently someone stole his butter.
I couldn't help but laugh.
"What's going on here. What are you even making?" I asked.
"Well... There's Andrew's sock in the pot." Mark said. Sure enough there was a sock in the cooking pot. UHH?! What the flip!
"THAT'S WHERE MY SOCK WENT!" Andrew screamed. I sighed.
Better than LAST time...