Not my story
Between the frenzied sound of feet scrambling against wooden floor and the faint smell of burnt cookies emerging from within the house; it didn't take long for Clarke to realize that Christmas festivities were upon them this evening.
"Dad!! The cookies are burning!" She could practically hear her little girl frantically pacing around the kitchen as she enters the front door. "Mom is going to be home soon! Dad!"
"Alright alright, I'm going as fast I can kid." Came her husband's distraught reply.
Clarke chuckles at the sound of her exasperated child and seemingly out of breath husband. It had been a long day at the clinic and there was nothing like the sound of father and daughter working together to conceive whatever mess they created to brighten up a solemn day-even if she was going to end up cleaning it later tonight.
"Honey," She called out loudly. When silence came as a reply, she abandoned her belongings onto the couch before heading towards the kitchen.
Inside the disheveled kitchen Bellamy Blake and their eight year-old daughter stood dejectedly at the sight of their newly burnt batch of snickerdoodles.
"Awh shit."
"Dad."
"I know, I know-swear jar."
Clarke stood at the entrance, arms crossed as she looked on with an amused smile dangling from her lips. Her husband was a mess of a man inside the unkempt room and somehow both father and daughter managed to cover themselves in an alarming amount of flour.
"I leave the house for a couple hours and this is what happens to my kitchen." she mused, raising an eyebrow at the sheepish father-daughter duo.
"Mommy!!" The little girl chirped before lunging herself towards her mother. "Daddy is the worst cook ever."
Clarke barked out a rumbling laughter as her husband scrounge up a playful pout. "Hey kid, I guess you're not eating dinner tonight."
"Hmph you're going to mess that up too!" The girl stuck her tongue out playfully.
"In my defense, I told mommy we should've bought you an easy-bake oven instead."
"Okay you two, play nice now." Clarke interjected, before this silly battle turn into a full blown food fight. "But we all know who's the better chef around here." But not before hooting a tease at her husband's dispense of course.
Bellamy scrunched his nose at this, but let out an exasperated sigh anyway, knowing this was already a losing battle for him. There was no way he could win against their snarky little girl and quite frankly, his wife was just as crafty with her remarks. "Okay okay. We get it, daddy sucks. Happy?" He said with hands in the air before placing a kiss on both his wife and kid.
Clarke smiled begrudgingly at her husband before turning to examine just what kinds of mess she was going to have to scrub through tonight. A sigh escapes her lips as she scrutinize the wreckage in front of her. The kitchen island was nearly enveloped in sugar and baking soda; the oven was dripping in what she could only make out as melted butter; and the sink was full of soiled dishes which she could have sworn weren't there this morning when she left the house.
She could always leave it to her helpless husband and rambunctious daughter to make a disaster out of something as simple as baking cookies. Really, how do you even mess that up?
"Alright you two, I'm going to need this kitchen clean before anyone eats anything tonight." she said sternly, something she had inherited from her own mother.
