Hello! I feel like this is a bit OOC. It's based a bit upon a Tumblr post that I saw, and I thought it might be fun to go into a bit more detail and add a pun about pasta.
It was a relatively peaceful day in the household. Sun was streaming through the windows, and Roderich was playing a melody on the piano in the other room. Elizabeta was washing the dishes, and Chibitalia was assumed to be sweeping the hallways somewhere.
There came a crash from the other room and Elizabeta winced, nearly dropping the pot she was scrubbing. The sound was almost normal nowadays; it was the sound of Chibitalia dropping his broom to the ground in favor of his growling stomach. She braced herself for the onslaught.
Sure enough, small, pattering footsteps were approaching the kitchen's doorway, along with the rustling of skirts and apron. A head of ginger-brown hair, topped with a white linen cap, poked around the edge of the doorway.
This new arrival in the kitchen was accompanied by a wail of "I'm hungry!" from the child. Elizabeta dropped the pot into the sink and turned, drying her soapy hands on a towel.
"Hello hungry, I'm Hungary."
There was a loud crash from the piano room as the melody Roderich was playing turned into a variety of loud noises that sounded like Roderich was either bashing the piano keys with his fists, or repeatedly slamming his head into the keys. Leaving Chibitalia behind, Elizabeta rushed into the other room to restore peace and harmony to the household.
Roderich had his face pressed into the ivory. This was truly the pose of a man who was extremely done with the world.
"We talked about this, Elizabeta," said the brown-haired nation in a deadpan tone as he lifted his head to stare at her.
"No, you talked about this, and I ignored you because I was reading," came her cheerful reply as she adjusted her apron.
He only shook his head as she went back to the kitchen, burying his face in his hands.
"Chibitalia, what have I told you about using the stove?!" came a stern reprimand from the other room. Roderich could only imagine what the small nation was doing. Most likely trying to make pasta again.
"You could say it's impastable for him to survive without his carbohydrates," muttered Roderich against his own better judgement.