Tale of the Wind and the Scary Oatmeal

October leafThis Saturday morning a playful wind came from the south. It caused a stir among the lazy autumn leaves, newspaper pages and runaway balloons that joyfully swirled to the crooning tune.

Household reconnaissance: Zoe—still asleep. Alex—awoke probably since dawn, solving obscure mathematical problems in his study (while listening to Patsy Cline).

I was just about to treat myself to a breakfast (my special oatmeal with seeds and spices) in the kitchen, when I heard a loud crack outside. Then, a sound of commotion came from Zoe’s room.

“Wow, awesome wind!”, a mischievous voice announced from her room. Within seconds, Zoe was on the terrace wearing only pajamas. Soon, she was making pirouettes with her arms waving toward the sky.

“I am teaching trees how to dance!”, She yelled, twirling.

“You are scaring the neighbors!” I teased her.

“There are no neighbors! Look around!”

As I almost finished eating my oatmeal, I did what I usually do when I have a minute of solitude: I saved the last spoon and smeared it on my face. I like stuff that has multiple uses.

My neck was just undergoing the final oatmeal touch-ups, when I suddenly realized I was not alone in the kitchen. Both Alex and Zoe were standing at the door, staring at me like two ghosts.

The silence didn’t last too long.

“Aaah! Mommy has brown spots on her face!” Zoe cried, looking at me in horror.

“My eyes! My eyes!” Alex cried too, but with laughter.

“Calm down, you two. It’s only my oatmeal. Well, with few tiny seeds.”

“Please take it off. It’s so scary. And don’t try to kiss me.” Zoe was covering her eyes with both hands.

“Zoe, I think we should give mommy a private moment.” Alex said. “Lets go outside and scare the neighbors together!”


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