I hobbled on my sprained ankle. Thanks to Beckett, who had tripped over his own two feet and pulled the ladder down with him.
"Ummm... Three eggs. Myles? You got that?"
"Three eggs!"
Yes, the fowl boys were making Christmas cookies.
"Flour! Front and centre!"
I glanced at the book I was quoting.
Beckett's small arms rolled the flour into the counter.
"... And that's all the ingredients. Alright, 'first off, take your flower and peanut butter (quantity above) and mix them together. After that is done, add mill and continue mixing..."
I peaked up. Oh. My. God.
The twins might as well have been ghosts.
"Did you slip up with the flour?" I teased them.
"What do you mean?" Beckett brought over a measuring cup.
He poured it in the mixing bowl.
"How much was that?"
"Two cups." Answered Myles
"Okay. Apparently were doubling the batch now."
"Oh, sorry."
"It's fine boys. We just get more cookies now."
"YES! Mess-ups rock!"
I peaked in the bowl, before setting the book down.
"Alright. I'll start mixing. You boys get the milk. AND DON'T DROP I-"
SPLAT!
I love being listened to.
I inhaled shakily. Frustration starting to get to me.
"You are in serious need of agility lessons."
"Like you can talk!"
"True." I concluded.
I sighed, picking up the now empty milk jug.
"Time to go grocery shopping, I suppose.