There are times when I really hate my brother.
Cookies
:When living with Grant, one never makes cookies unguarded.:
Cammie walks past the living room, where Grant is sitting comfortably, eating chips.
"What are you doing?" he asks as he watches her go into the kitchen. They just ate lunch, so she obviously isn't getting a snack. Which means only one thing: cookies. Cammie is about to make cookies.
"Nothing," she replies, pulling on her baking apron.
"Don't lie," he says. "I know you're making cookies."
"Who says?" she asks, pulling out the cookie batter mix and a big bowl.
"Because what else could you be doing?"
"Getting a drink?" she replies, rolling her eyes as she opens the fridge and takes out a stick of butter.
"You're taking too long," he argues.
"I'm really thirsty," she says, stirring the ingredients together.
"Liar," he mutters. But he lets it slide, considering how his show just got back from commercial.
After thirty minutes, Grant hears a ring. Cammie tries to stop it, but it's too late. Grant has heard his calling and is now ready to approach his prey.
"Grant, stay back!" she yells from inside the kitchen. "The-The floor is all wet!" she lies. "You're gonna slip if you come."
He rolls his eyes and walks into the kitchen, smelling the sweet aroma of the cookies. He licks his lips and smiles.
He walks over to the counter and leans hungrily over them, ready to grab one.
"No!" Cammie yells, frowning. "I made those for school!"
It's too late. The deed has been done. Grant has eaten a cookie.
But Cammie should've known that when living with Grant, one never makes cookies unguarded.
Up next: Words
*this title is random, and it may change. See ya!