A sunny start, OTA

[stepfordbot]

Routines are important. Establishing them, maintaining them- a lifetime spent with a house full of children that required minding and strict standards to follow as to their care filled Grace's days and gave her purpose. As the family waxed and waned, as the children grew and lives became infinitely more complicated the routine changed. But one thing remains the same no matter how old or young, no matter how full or empty the house has become. The most important meal of the day.



Nutrition dictates a certain variation now and then, but a single dish tends to surface over and over. Be it the dietary value or the aesthetic- or that it was one of the few ways she could, when they were young, offer the children a moment that was close to normal. Normal children aren't raised with an unloving and distant father, Normal families don't run drills with knives and violence instead of nursery rhymes and storybooks. Normal families and normal children had eggs sunny side up with smiling faces made with bacon.

Which is on the menu today alongside a stack of pancakes and a few prepared, wrapped and warmed sandwiches of egg, sausage, cheese, and english muffins for those that need to eat and run. Sliced fruit and glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice.

She's singing under her breath, something simple and lilting as the smell of bacon fat and frying eggs fills the air. No matter what happens, she's been able to feed and provide. As soon as the first set of eggs are finished she calls out- "Children! Eggs are ready."

Comments

[stepfordbot]

One of the better surprises of whatever broke to bring everyone together, everyone back, is having a younger Klaus in the house again. Without Reginald around to scowl and glower, without the rules and regulations that imprisoned them for so long? She's better able to dote. To be a little more open, a little more human as she works around decades old programming. "Good morning Klaus."

She flips a fresh pancake onto a plate, sliding it over to Klaus. Fresh and steaming is a kitten curled up in a little loaf, tail trailing off, ready for syrup. "Did you sleep well?"

[ghostphone]

Klaus definitely loves the lack of Dad running around, barking orders and tightening restrictions more all the time. "Oh my god, it's so cute." he grins at the kitten-shaped pancake on his plate. "Mom, you're the best." He pops a piece of fruit in his mouth and pours syrup on the pancake.

"Mm, good enough, I guess." He shrugs a little. He knows Mom's used to answers like that. He wishes he could give her better reports sometimes, but 'good enough' is about as good as it ever gets.

[stepfordbot]

"Should I start sending up a pot of cocoa to your room before bed?" It helps- sometimes. Whether they choose to stay up or attempt sleep, warmed milk, sweetened and flavoured with chocolate can soothe the mind or at the very least the stomach. She cracks eggs into the pan, salting them as the whites set.

[ghostphone]

"Umm- maybe? If you think it would help?" He never really likes to abuse the very ingrained caretaker abilities in his mother's programming, but she does do it really well, and she knows the things that help all of the kids the best.

[stepfordbot]

"It can't hurt." A pot of cocoa and shortbread. Nothing too heavy- but something easily nibbled on while they found their way to sleep.

[ghostphone]

"Thanks, Mom." He smiles a little and goes back to his pancake. For all that any other time of the day he would be the biggest chatterbox of all of the Hargreeves children, mornings are not Klaus' best time of day-- and he doesn't have much to talk about anyway. He's perfectly content to simply sit at the table and eat breakfast while Mom bustles around the kitchen with an effortless sort of ease. It's nice, the kind of contentment that was never allowed when dad was alive. A stray thought crosses his mind and he frowns a little, sipping at his juice as his eyes are still on his mother. "...Mom?" his voice is quiet, and small, more like the child he is suddenly. "Is it bad that I hope whatever broke to make me be here when I shouldn't, doesn't get fixed?" His gaze drops to the table, a frown creasing across his forehead. "I don't wanna go back where Dad's alive..."