It mesmerized me as she swung her hips from side to side with the beat of the music, plating whatever it was she’d been cooking.
“All right, Molly. It’s your turn. Load me up.”
Fascinated, I watched as Molly held a large measuring cup with a ladle, then proceeded to pour and swirl whatever the mixture was into a pan.
“Great job!” Alex enthusiastically encouraged her. “Before long, you and Eloise will be breakfast connoisseurs.”
From Alex’s other side, Eloise tugged gently on the hem of her black tank. “What is a conn… connconsewer?”
Deciding now was a good time to make my presence known, I chimed in, “Connoisseur. I believe it’s someone who is an expert.”
“Daddy!” both girls shouted as they rushed toward me. Eloise reached me first while Molly carefully stepped down from the small stool and set the measuring cup aside. Collectively, they gripped my legs in their tiny arms to greet me.
“Morning, girls,” I said as I ran my hands over their soft hair. With a quick glance up, I caught Alex’s eyes, but she quickly diverted them back to the stove. Yet not before I caught the rosy blush of her cheeks. “How did you both sleep?”
“Good,” Eloise said. “I had no bad dreams.”
“Like I was on a cloud,” Molly added for good measure.
“Wow. Well, we’ll have to find out where to buy the same mattress, so we can have them for you at our new house.”
The girls squealed and jumped around me the same way they did when the ice cream truck was coming down the street in our old neighborhood. As they moved around like little bunnies, I slowly approached Alex, then rested my hip on the counter beside her.
“Morning,” I said cautiously.
“Good morning.” Without the assistance of one of my daughters, Alex plated something that resembled an extra-flat pancake, then poured and spooned out the batter for another batch.
“What are you making?”
“Crepes, Daddy!” Molly shouted, pulling my eyes away from Alex. I could hear the softest of chuckles from her direction.
“Wow. I bet they’re the best crepes if you helped make them.”
“Girls, I’m almost done, so if you want to grab all the extras we put in the fridge, we can set the table.”
With no pushback, both girls opened the fridge and collected multiple bowls before carrying them to the small breakfast table in the kitchen. This was far less formal than the dining room, but more intimate as well.
As I took my seat, designated by Eloise, I tried to focus on the array of fruits and proteins filling the tabletop.
“I told the girls they could eat these sort of like breakfast tacos.” As Alex carried the heaping stack of crepes, I noticed the only available seat at the table was beside me. By the side-eye Molly and Eloise were giving each other, it seemed they planned it that way. Schemed by four-year-olds.
Ignoring their matching smirks, I took everything in as our host scooted her chair under the table.
“This looks amazing, Alex. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
“It was no trouble at all. The girls woke up right after me, and they were hungry. I already needed to make y’all something to eat, so I asked if they wanted to help me.”
“Daddy, it was so much fun. We got to do the indgr… ingra—”
Chiming in when it seemed Molly was struggling to remember the correct word, I said, “Ingredients?”
“Yes. Ingredimients. And Eloise got to use the spinny thing.”
The thought of my youngest handling a type of power tool was enough to send my body into shock. Air caught in my lungs, and I subconsciously gripped the fork beneath my hand. My vision blurred as immediate thoughts of my daughter injuring herself assaulted me.
“The hand mixer. She did so great with it. A complete natural.” Alex’s delicate hand rested on top of mine. Like a gentle ripple in a pond, her touch pushed away all the uneasiness and fear I felt. “I watched them the entire time. I was just a bit younger than them when I started helping my mom in the kitchen.”
“It was really fun, Daddy,” Eloise added as she reached across the table to begin filling her crepe with hazelnut spread and fruit.
