Maura’s watching Doctor Who. Again. She’s been binging on Doctor Who all break. Which would be cool if A) she just watched the shows straight through instead of stopping them midway and B) she didn’t want to watch the same episode over and over and over and over and I’m looking at you Peter Capaldi episode about Robin Hood.
Josh woke me up with that. “Maura’s watching Doctor Who. I’m heading into the office in a moment.”
“Is there milk for my coffee?” I asked, one eye open.
“I bought a gallon last night so there should be at least a half gallon left.”
“I love you.”
Because we know the important things in life.
I stumble out of bed, turn on the kettle, go find slipper socks for my icy little feet, and let the dogs out as Maura goes “Snow! I love snow!” There’s frost on the ground, close enough.
I make coffee and go to get one of my protein bars that I hide from Maura because they’re chocolate flavored and she’ll eat all five in the box in one go. She spots my protein bar, and goes rummaging for one herself.
“Here, let me get one for you.” I said. Because I don’t mind sharing. But I also don’t want her finding my hiding spot. Which, honestly, is a normal parent/tween thing anyway. You have teens? You’ll end up hiding food so they don’t eat it all in one go.
Sean comes out. “Do you mind if I cook the orange rolls?”
“Go for it.”
He rummages around, comes back. “Um, where are they?”
“They should be in the fridge in the kitchen.”
He leaves, rummages more, returns. “I can’t find them.”
Sean goes off again, returns again. “Mim said Maura wanted to cook them?”
Oh lord. So this week, Maura’s been into baking. Or “baking”. As in, she’s finding the extras from the holidays, a can of biscuits, a thing of cinnamon rolls, and asking me to bake them. She’ll then put on the oven mitts to help me by handing me the pan or taking the pan out of the oven as we discuss “hot”.
Maura also has a new backpack. The week before Christmas, she packed a lunch for her backpack, which included the full package of hot dogs, and four bananas. We discovered this a couple days after the lunch was packed.
All this flashed through my mind as Sean and I pondered over the missing can of orange rolls. I had visions of it being tucked under Maura’s bed, right on the heat vent, and what kind of mess it would make when it eventually exploded. However, Sean was more productive in his research, and discovered the empty container of orange rolls in the garbage, meaning someone cooked them, which meant I could stop worrying about when the missing can would explode.
“But when were they cooked?” asked Sean.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“Maybe Collin cooked them late one night?”
“Anything is possible.”
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have coffee to finish before going out to buy more food for teenagers. Because coffee. And teens.