MERMAID (chapter 4.2)

by Kanga in my own little bubble

Now I have to make something healthy, because of the junk food we had yesterday. I have to say this; we do not eat crappy food like that everyday. I guess dad only agreed because of the ‘sunstroke’ that I got out fishing.

I opened the bright yellow cupboard door and took out a box of rolled oats and a huge glass jar. Then I took out the milk and some honey out of the fridge. I put a few cups of oats in the jar, covered it with milk and popped it in the microwave. While the porridge was cooking I chopped up some apple and bananas. When it was ready, I took the jar out of the microwave put some honey, apple, banana and nut’s in it. Just like mum used to make. She said it was the healthiest breakfast you can ever have. Along with a cup of water or veggie juice.

“Dad! Breakfast is ready,” I called, from the kitchen.

He staggered into the dining room, where I was scooping up the porridge and slopping it into some bowls.

He yawned. 

“Rough night?” I asked. He did look a mess. His black hair almost looked as wild as mine.

“Mm. I’ll never get used to sleeping on the divan. It’s so uncomfortable. Next summer you’re on the couch.”

I grinned. He says that every summer, but I always argue him out of it.

When we were both seated at the table and were both silent, as usual, I decided to ask him if I could go to Nat’s house.

“Hey dad, you know that albino girl who lives a few blocks away?”

He nodded, reading the news paper and still munching loudly on his porridge.

“Well I was wondering I if I could go to her house today. Just the two of us.”

Dad swallowed and was about to say something when I butted in.

“And we won’t go to the beach. It’s just I haven’t seen her since last year. You can go hang out with James or get a book because you still haven’t found one yet.”

I could see I was winning the argument.

OK so I wasn’t going to go see Nat. I mean, it’s not that I don’t like her, but she can be a control freak sometimes. Well, all the time. Anyway, talking to a mermaid is much more interesting than being bossed around. Actually, it’s much more interesting than being with nice, non-controlling friends. 

“Fine, but be back by four. And remember,” he looked pointedly at me.

I sighed.

“Don’t go to the beach.”