Transformation: Day 1

Word Count: 6,048

Summary of Events:

Ian got up, had breakfast, and went to the staff meeting held in advance of the first day of summer riding camps before taking some time to ride his mare before the students arrived. Taylor, done his exams for the day, went outside to enjoy some solitude, but ended up getting into an argument with a fellow graduating student that actually led to a fight and a trip to the headmaster's office. Elianne finished unpacking the last of her things back into her bedroom from having spent much of the year living with her grandparents and headed downstairs to see what was for supper . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Is that you Elly?” Dad asked.

“Yes,” she replied through her teeth.

“Can you make supper for me?” Dad asked.

“And what, the rest of us are supposed to starve?” she asked.

“No,” Dad replied. “I meant just cook it so I don’t have to. What has come over you lately Elly?”

She clenched her jaw and said nothing, striding past him to where the recipe book sat open, upside down, on the holder, turned to a pair of recipes they’d never had before.

“Which one of these are you wanting to make?” she asked.

“The one we always have,” Dad replied.

“We’ve never had either of these recipes before,” she replied.

“Don’t give me that, we’ve had tuna macaroni casserole before,” Dad replied.

She checked the cover, suspicious, and found she was right. “Tuna macaroni casserole isn’t even in this book Dad.”
“That’s the green book I grabbed, and I know it’s in the green book,” Dad replied.

“This is the purple book Dad,” she replied, going over to the cookbook shelf to fetch the green cookbook.

“I’m positive I grabbed the green cookbook with the lady on the front of it,” Dad replied.

She rolled her eyes. “They all have the same lady on the front of them Dad, you’ve got to read the titles.”

“Well if they weren’t printed so small,” Dad replied.

“This on the cover is, like, size fifty font Dad, since when is that small?” she asked.

“Size fifty font,” Dad scoffed, swearing under his breath. “You don’t know what size fifty font looks like Elly.”

“I use computers at school Dad, I’ve mucked around with the font sizes,” she replied.

“Stuff the sass back where it belongs and just make supper, it’s just a simple thing I’m asking Elly,” Dad said firmly.

Huffing to herself, she opened the correct cookbook to the recipe, which was one of Dad’s favourites. She hated it, but since he’d been away for most of the year she was willing to oblige him just this once.

Dad cried out, then a heavy thud sounded. She whirled around to find Dad facedown on the family room floor.

“So who moved the step?” Dad demanded. “Was this house renovated while I was gone? I can’t find anything around here anymore.”
“We didn’t touch the house,” she replied.

“Sure, whatever,” Dad muttered, sounding completely unconvinced.

She sighed and made a face at the cookbook. She didn’t mind fish, but she preferred white fish or salmon, tuna was disgusting and tasted like she was eating a metal ingot, plus she detested Kraft Dinner — in spite of it’s being considered almost a National Food of Canada.

To her the noodles were tough and inedible no matter how long they were cooked and the powdered cheese was worse than Cheese Whiz — and that wasn’t the greatest to her unless it was microwaved and poured over broccoli or cauliflower.