paused, then shrugged off whatever admiration she might have been feeling for another being. "Still, fitting a power like a glove is nothing like what it'll be for me. Because I will be totally prepared, ready to embrace whatever may come."
"Oh, bother." Georgia rolled her eyes.
We couldn't blame her. What Rebecca was saying was very eye-roll-worthy. Why did she have to be so melodramatic about this? In her own way, she was even worse than Petal about this stuff!
Rebecca finally stopped running.
"I think I need a high-protein snack," Rebecca said. "Durinda, make one for me, won't you? There's my good girl."
"I'm not your good girl," Durinda said, clearly highly offended, which proves it never pays to talk down to the household cook. "It's the middle of the night." Durinda shot a look at open-mouthed Marcia. "It's the beginning of the morning. My kitchen is closed."
"Fine." Rebecca shrugged. "I can make something myself."
Rebecca marched into the kitchen, Rambunctious by her side, and we followed behind. We may have been exhausted and exasperated, but we were curious as to what Rebecca would consider a high-protein snack.
Once in the kitchen, Rebecca opened the refrigerator.
"You're not Durinda," Carl the talking refrigerator immediately objected, although he did sound groggy.
"No, I'm not, Carl," Rebecca said, removing a carton of eggs. "I'm prettier and smarter."
"I don't know if I'd say all that," Carl said. "I only have eyes for robot Betty. But you are ruder. Durinda would never wake me in the middle of the night like this." Immediately, Carl added, "Sorry, Marcia, I mean the beginning of the morning."
Marcia closed her mouth as Rebecca closed the refrigerator door and Carl fell silent.
We fell silent too as we watched Rebecca take a glass from the cabinet, remove an egg from the carton, crack the egg on the side of the glass, drop the raw egg into the glass, toss the shell on the counter, remove another egg from the carton—
"What are you planning on doing with that?" Annie demanded.
"That is not, " Durinda pointed out, "how you make scrambled eggs. When I scramble eggs I use a bowl, not a glass, to mix the eggs before pouring them into the prepared skillet. You haven't even prepared the skillet!"
We could tell Durinda was really mad at Rebecca, probably because of that crack about being prettier and smarter. Also because Rebecca had presumed to tell Durinda to make her a snack and now she was making a mess of Durinda's kitchen.
"That's because I'm not going to use a skillet," Rebecca said, dropping the contents of yet another cracked egg into the glass. How many eggs did this make? Five? Six? More? We were tempted to ask Marcia, who had superior math skills, but we were too busy wondering what Rebecca was going to do with that tall glass of raw egg.
We didn't have to wait long as Rebecca raised the glass toward her lips and—
"You can't drink that!" Petal said, leaping forward in her granny nightie—Petal would wear a granny nightie, even in summer—and grabbing on to Rebecca's arm. "That's death! "
"It's not certain death." Rebecca shrugged. "Only the threat of it." She tried to raise the glass to her lips again but Petal hung on tight.
"Petal's right, you know," Zinnia said.
Petal's right —those were words heard in our world as rarely as the words Rebecca's right. Still...
"It is very dangerous to eat raw eggs," Zinnia went on. "Weren't you paying attention in health class the last few years?"
"So?" was all Rebecca had to say to that.
"I didn't save your life in France," Petal said, still hanging on to Rebecca's raised arm, Petal's feet not even touching the ground now, "only to have you throw it away by raw-egging yourself to death."
"I don't care about any of that," Rebecca said. "I only care about getting my power and being ready for it when it comes."
Then, with Petal still hanging on, Rebecca managed to raise the glass the rest of the way to her lips.
It should have told us
"Oh, bother." Georgia rolled her eyes.
We couldn't blame her. What Rebecca was saying was very eye-roll-worthy. Why did she have to be so melodramatic about this? In her own way, she was even worse than Petal about this stuff!
Rebecca finally stopped running.
"I think I need a high-protein snack," Rebecca said. "Durinda, make one for me, won't you? There's my good girl."
"I'm not your good girl," Durinda said, clearly highly offended, which proves it never pays to talk down to the household cook. "It's the middle of the night." Durinda shot a look at open-mouthed Marcia. "It's the beginning of the morning. My kitchen is closed."
"Fine." Rebecca shrugged. "I can make something myself."
Rebecca marched into the kitchen, Rambunctious by her side, and we followed behind. We may have been exhausted and exasperated, but we were curious as to what Rebecca would consider a high-protein snack.
Once in the kitchen, Rebecca opened the refrigerator.
"You're not Durinda," Carl the talking refrigerator immediately objected, although he did sound groggy.
"No, I'm not, Carl," Rebecca said, removing a carton of eggs. "I'm prettier and smarter."
"I don't know if I'd say all that," Carl said. "I only have eyes for robot Betty. But you are ruder. Durinda would never wake me in the middle of the night like this." Immediately, Carl added, "Sorry, Marcia, I mean the beginning of the morning."
Marcia closed her mouth as Rebecca closed the refrigerator door and Carl fell silent.
We fell silent too as we watched Rebecca take a glass from the cabinet, remove an egg from the carton, crack the egg on the side of the glass, drop the raw egg into the glass, toss the shell on the counter, remove another egg from the carton—
"What are you planning on doing with that?" Annie demanded.
"That is not, " Durinda pointed out, "how you make scrambled eggs. When I scramble eggs I use a bowl, not a glass, to mix the eggs before pouring them into the prepared skillet. You haven't even prepared the skillet!"
We could tell Durinda was really mad at Rebecca, probably because of that crack about being prettier and smarter. Also because Rebecca had presumed to tell Durinda to make her a snack and now she was making a mess of Durinda's kitchen.
"That's because I'm not going to use a skillet," Rebecca said, dropping the contents of yet another cracked egg into the glass. How many eggs did this make? Five? Six? More? We were tempted to ask Marcia, who had superior math skills, but we were too busy wondering what Rebecca was going to do with that tall glass of raw egg.
We didn't have to wait long as Rebecca raised the glass toward her lips and—
"You can't drink that!" Petal said, leaping forward in her granny nightie—Petal would wear a granny nightie, even in summer—and grabbing on to Rebecca's arm. "That's death! "
"It's not certain death." Rebecca shrugged. "Only the threat of it." She tried to raise the glass to her lips again but Petal hung on tight.
"Petal's right, you know," Zinnia said.
Petal's right —those were words heard in our world as rarely as the words Rebecca's right. Still...
"It is very dangerous to eat raw eggs," Zinnia went on. "Weren't you paying attention in health class the last few years?"
"So?" was all Rebecca had to say to that.
"I didn't save your life in France," Petal said, still hanging on to Rebecca's raised arm, Petal's feet not even touching the ground now, "only to have you throw it away by raw-egging yourself to death."
"I don't care about any of that," Rebecca said. "I only care about getting my power and being ready for it when it comes."
Then, with Petal still hanging on, Rebecca managed to raise the glass the rest of the way to her lips.
It should have told us
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