Rita's Pancakes


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1 min
44
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I'm a student at PennState Brandywine. I love anime, manga, cartoons, roses, romance, dancing and adventure books  [+]

Image of Fall 2020
Image of Short Fiction
June 13th, 2012

I'm hungry. I want pancakes. I untangle myself from Max and get off the bed.

I open the door to Mom and Dad's room and climb up. They look asleep. I could wake them, but they take forever. Also, lack of sleep is bad for health and doing things. I climb back down and close the door.

I go to Mama's room, she always leaves the door open at night. She's not here, must be at staying the night somewhere. Mom doesn't like her going out late due to her illness because Mama and Aunt Max are the only ones who can care for her, but Mother and Aunt Sanna says that teens need to go out and be social. Besides, yesterday was Mama's last day of middle school.

I go downstairs to the kitchen and open the freezer, no microwave pancakes. I close the freezer and open the pantry, I see pancake mix. It's high up, but I can climb. I'm a great climber, I am a Spider Queen. I could teleport it, but I don't want to, I'm only four. I summon my extra arms, climb up, grab the mix, and climb down. I could read since I was two, unusual for humans, like most of mi Papí's side of the family, and my foster family, but pretty normal for fayish creatures, like Mother and Step-Mother's side of the family.

I gather everything I need and turn the stove on. My foster family doesn't like me using the stove, but Mama's fine as long as she watches me. I put the pan on the burner I turned on, then I make the batter. When I'm done, I grab the butter and put a fingerful on the pan, it instantly sizzles. My foster family doesn't like me and Mama using our fingers for butter and cream cheese, but why waste a good utensil? The pan's hot enough. I carefully ladle the batter onto the pan and watch the cakes cook. When they're ready to be flipped, I flip them, like Mama taught me. When they're done, I put them on a plate, turn the burner off, and push the pan back.

I hop off my stool and climb on one of the big chairs. I set my plate on the island. Then I cut my pancakes and then pour the syrup on them. Mom likes to cut her pancakes after she puts the syrup and butter on them, but that just makes the knife sticky and harder to clean. I like the way Mama does it. I taste my pancakes, they're delicious.
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