The Diary of Evergreen Evelyn

The Dance of Rules and Rebellion

As the evening unfolded, they gathered around the dinner table. Ed, in the head chair, exuded authority. Sam took my place beside him, and Cece nervously settled next to me, well aware of Sam's strict demeanor. Eve, seated opposite, fumbled with the vegetables on her plate, feeling the weight of Ed's disapproving gaze.

The chef's culinary creations graced the table, and as the aroma wafted through the air, Sam seized the moment to share our joy. With a forced smile, he announced, "Guess what, everyone? We're expecting!"

Ed, already aware of the news, remained stoic. Everybody congratulated them."Congratulations, Sam and Cece," Liam remarked, acknowledging the shared happiness. As Dan hugged Sam tightly.

In the awkward silence that followed, Dan leaned in, whispering, "Cece, how are you going to handle this pregnancy under his rules? It's going to be challenging."

Sam sternly replied, "We'll manage, Cece. It's for the best."

Across the table, Eve attempted to discreetly set aside the vegetables on her plate, earning a sharp reprimand from Ed. "Eve, you need those. No excuses," he asserted, maintaining a strict atmosphere that hung over the dinner, making it clear that rules were not to be broken.

As Sam directed the chef to include milk for three instead of two, he made a formal announcement that from that evening forward, Cece would join Eve and Evan in having a glass of milk.

Cece, hesitatingly, started to negotiate, attempting to reason her way out of it. My patience wore thin, and I unleashed a harsh scolding, "Cece, there's no room for negotiation here. It's not just about you; it's about the well-being of our child. Drink the milk."

Eve, not to be outdone, added a dramatic touch, "I hate milk!"

Ed, quick to address any form of dissent, shot her a stern look. "Enough, Eve. You'll drink it and complete your dinner," he commanded, silencing her protests with an authoritative tone.

Liam, sensing the tension, attempted to lighten the mood. "Come on, Cece, milk is essential for the baby's growth. Don't make Sam unleash more of his scolding prowess."

Cece, with a playful pout, retorted, "Easy for you to say. You're not the one getting scolded."

As the chef placed three glasses of milk on the table Eve, however, couldn't let the opportunity pass without some whining. "Ed, why do I have to drink milk? It's gross, and I'm not a kid anymore."

Ed, tightening his grip on the situation, replied sternly, "Eve, You'll drink the milk because it's good for you, and that's final."

Eve, persistent in her resistance, continued to whine, "But Ed, it tastes awful, and I've had a long day. Can't I skip it just this once?"

Ed's patience wore thin, and he raised his voice, "No more excuses. Drink the milk, or there will be consequences."

The threat caught Eve off guard, and she pouted even more, "Consequences? Seriously? It's just milk."

Ed, now visibly frustrated, issued a final warning, "I won't tolerate this attitude. If you don't drink the milk right now, I won't hesitate to resort to more serious measures, like a good old-fashioned spanking."

Eve's eyes widened, realizing the gravity of the situation. She reluctantly picked up the glass, muttering under her breath, "Fine, but I still hate it."

The tension lingered as the conversation shifted to lighter topics, but the strict atmosphere prevailed. The clinking of cutlery became a backdrop to a dinner table balancing on the edge of discipline and familial dynamics.

Cece drank half a glass, putting it down with a definitive declaration that she was done, earning a piercing glare from Sam.

"I need your glass empty. You aren't leaving this table before that," Sam insisted firmly.