Here is something else that I wrote as a part of my brother's 30 days of writing prompts.
#5: Choose a common
or menial task with which you are familiar. Try to describe it to your reader
in a fun/interesting way, or possibly shed new light on something mundane.
Tears streamed down Kathleen’s face. “I just can’t get it right!” she
sobbed. As she sat, curled against her favorite tree in the forest, her mind
recalled the woeful events that had led her here. Kathleen, the prettiest girl
in her village, had early captured the interest and love of the local young carpenter,
Shawn. They soon wed, and thus, at the age of 19, she became the mistress of
her own home.
Beautiful, witty, kind, and compassionate, Kathleen seemed to have it
all…or so it appeared. She lacked but one thing. Raised from her infancy by her
widower father, the motherless girl knew nothing about the fine arts of cooking.
For the first few months of Kathleen and Shawn’s marriage, they
literally lived on love alone. But soon, the concrete biscuits, burned eggs,
and charcoal bacon began to wear on him. He was a carpenter, after all! He
needed more than burnt offerings for sustenance. Soon, try as he might, he
could no longer keep his complaints to himself, and his grumbling turned into
roaring. Kathleen felt disgraced and displeased with herself. What was her
beauty and charm if she could not cook?
The day before this, she had purchased a roast from the butcher, purposing
that she would attempt to make her husband’s favorite dish: pot roast. He loved
that meal, and continually talked about how his mother always cooked it for
him. Kathleen just knew she could do it if she tried hard enough.
But alas! The meat resembled beef jerky, the carrots were shriveled,
and the potatoes charred on the edges. Her husband made a valiant effort to eat
the meal, but he soon pushed back his plate, exclaiming, “How do you expect me
to eat this stuff, woman!?”and stormed out of the house. The next morning, this
scene was again repeated with her scorched bacon and eggs. Kathleen could take
no more, so burst into tears, ran out the back door, and into the forest,
falling at the base of her favorite tree. How long she cried there, she had no
way of telling. But, suddenly, she heard a soft voice saying, “What ails you,
my child?”
Kathleen blinked through her tears, and, looking up, she beheld an
older woman with a jovial face and a slightly rotund, matronly figure which
heavily bespoke of her enjoyment of the culinary arts. The stranger repeated
herself, “What ails you, child? What causes you to cry so?”
“I…c-can’t…c-cook! And my…husband…is d-displeased…with me!” sobbed
Kathleen. “Last night, I tried…to m-make him…his…favorite d-dish, b-but the
roast…was as…t-tough…as j-jerky! And this m-morning I b-burned…his b-breakfast!”
“Oh, my poor child. Do you have no mother to teach you? Ahh, I thought
not,” said the stranger in answer to Kathleen’s sorrowful shake of her head.
“Well, come, my child, I will teach you how to make a roast that will make your
man’s mouth water.”
And so saying, she led Kathleen to her house, which lay in a small
clearing in the center of the forest. Once there, she brought Kathleen into the
kitchen, and pulled out an oval shaped pot with buttons on it. “This,” she
explained, “Is the housewife’s best friend. It is called a crockpot. I have two
of these, so will let you take this one home with you for now. Now, let us
begin.”
“First, you peel about 4 large carrots, and then chop them up into
roughly 1 ½ inch chunks, like this. Next, we chop 4-5 red potatoes—again, into
rather large chunks (if you like, you may substitute 1 large sweet potato for
about 2 of the regular potatoes for added flavor). Then, we chop an onion. Now
we toss all this into the bottom of the pot,” said the kindly woman,
demonstrating it to the distraught young wife.
“Now,” said she, “We will get out my frying pan, put a tablespoon of
garlic in it, and turn the stove on to medium-high heat. Then we will place the
roast in the pan, and brown it evenly on all sides, like so. Now take the roast
and put it on top of the vegetables in the crockpot. Finally, here are 15 ounce
cans of sauerkraut, stewed tomatoes, and beef broth. Pour them on top of the
roast. Then, place the lid on the pot, and cook on high for 5-6 hours or on low
for 8-10 hours. And, ta-da! You have a roast that will fall apart in your
husband’s mouth.”
And so saying, she handed the crockpot to the grateful young wife, with
instructions to come back for cooking lessons anytime she desired. Kathleen
hurried home and turned on the crockpot. That night, when Shawn came home, a
succulent dinner awaited him. The delight with which he greeted this meal can
scarcely be described. Let me just say that Kathleen learned that day that the
way to a man’s heart truly is through his stomach.
And they lived happily ever after. The End.
