Alphabetical mishaps: C is for Chocolate chip cookies.
A/N:Here is the next drabble in the series! And someone finally tried guessing the word, 3 points to Miss Autumn Rose and Miss Alessandria!I'm such a sucker for food-themed fics!
However, I was totally gobsmacked at the amount of blocks I had to face while trying to write C is for Chocolate Chip Cookies. So this one is a sorry excuse for an update (not that anyone's waiting for it anyway).
Disclaimer: It's our dear Louisa May who loved to scribble delightfully heart-breaking stories, and not I. I f I were Louisa, Beth would be alive and well and Amy wouldn't be such a stuck up ninny. Oh well, I have Fan Fiction, and soon I shall take over Fiction Press, huehuehuehuehue.
C is for Chocolate Chip Cookies
Margaret March was disappointed with herself.
'I thought you knew better, Meg!' She scolded herself as she watched her younger sister battle with a gigantic bowl of cookie batter. Everything looked a mess and Jo herself was the biggest mess of them all; with batter on her apron, hair and face, she looked like she was about to pass out any moment.
'Jo, will you pleasesit down!' Meg pleaded with the flustered girl for about the 100th time that morning, only to be replied with a determined posture.
"Oh, stop being so sentimental, Meg." Jo dismissed her sister with a flutter of her hand. "It's only baking."
"You look like you'll disgrace yourself by fainting"
"I will not!"
"You will. I feel horrible for suggesting the picnic."
Jo laughed, "So very like you to be taking all the blame!" She grew serious all of a sudden, "Could you for once let me do something on my own? It's quite tiring to always have someone hovering over you..." she muttered.
Meg sighed in defeat. If Jo wanted to bake, she would bake come hell or high water, there would be no negotiation. However, she could always do that one thing...
"I suppose you wouldn't mind Laurie coming and helping you out, then?"
Jo stopped in the middle of kneading and looked at her sister with a disbelieving stare. "You wouldn't."
"He's a walking disaster."
"No more then you are!"
" I am going to bake these cookies whether you call Laurie or not, Meg."
Meg smiled to herself, if anyone could handle Jo, it would be Laurie. It was decided, he would have to skip the picnic preparations.
Jo took no notice of Meg slipping out and talking to Laurie under the apple tree. Soon after, the boy had come inside the disastrous kitchen; gawking at the scattered ingredients and his flustered friend.
"My dear fellow, you look like you've been battling a dragon." Jo, surprised, turned around abruptly with her battered spatula in hand, splattering a few drops on Laurie's shirt.
'One made of batter, and a much more formidable foe it is, too." He added. Jo rolled her eyes and proceeded to put blobs of the mixture on a baking tray.
Laurie wanted to chuckle at her; Jo's brows were knitted together in concentration and her nose was scrunched a bit. It was only the simple task of baking, for Pete's sake! But he had to remember that this was Jo, she could write a billion plays but not bake a loaf of bread.
"Laurie, go away and spread the blankets, or something else. Go away"
Laurie laughed, "what sort of a gentleman leaves a lady alone to confront her trying ordeals?"
"You a gentleman? Don't make me laugh. And for your information I'm doing just fine."
Laurie pulled a strand of Jo's hair that was caked with flour, "It doesn't seem so to me."
"So it got a tad messy; only a bit."
"That's quite an understatement."
Jo was getting annoyed, it was sweltering hot and she had been standing beside an oven the whole time, Meg was being sentimental and now Laurie was teasing her. Without pondering on it for a second, she took a handful of flour and flung at at her friend; dusting his black curls white.
She laughed at his gobsmacked expression, until she was hit square on the face by a handful of cookie dough.
" Two can play at this game, Teddy Laurence!"
"Hah! I would like to see you try, Jo March!"
Soon the cosy kitchen got even messier as the playful cannoning soon turned into a full-fledged war. Not too far away, under the apple tree, Amy was grumbling.
"We're not having cookies, are we now?"
...I'm a disgrace. Your thoughts?