Mess
"What in the Goddess's name are you doing?"
He left her alone for five minutes, only five. Hardly any time at all. And now he was pulling at his hair, utterly distraught, staring at the mess in his kitchen. She gripped an empty bag of flour, upside-down, the contents absolutely everywhere. There was egg on the now white counter top and she had batter on her – his – apron and on her cheek. He wanted to cry. His precious kitchen!
She grinned sheepishly, "... Making pancakes?"