Personal Trainer (or lover?)

E

E - Ever so romantically

Arriving home, I carefully opened the front door only to find him dossing.
My sleepyhead of a father.

I knew that by that time of afternoon, nor nearly evening, he should be getting his nap after going through a toilsome day of work. As a cheff, he's quite busy around the clock. That's only because, or more likely thanks, to his prolonged services.

People are passing by and slinging their hook like time is no object. But as my father once said, 'You can tell that you truely love your job, when you feel like you haven't worked at all.'

As a pleasing gusture, he likes bringing here some of his flagships meals that are continually manage to meet my wishes, as much as they fit the costumers of the restuarant called "Foodad".

Pretty original sounding, right?

It all begin when him and his childhood friends served as temporal workers at a pizza place. They've been voluntering ever since graduating, and only intended on saving their wags for a hike around the world. Not to mention that non of them have ever been to other countries...

However, the more time they toiled themselves was the less of an urge to fly aboard. So spontaneously, the group of guys have determined that all saving will be spanded on a new refectory to open. Since then, from being youngest teens to oldest papas, the Foodad business had remained well-known toward our city.

Even now, on the kitchen island, were placed food books inside the papers bags, as the logo of Foodad written above. Although I've already been to a bakery with Bella today, I can never stay inert to the smell of a homemade food, which cooked by my dad in particular. Nobody, and I mean nobody can ever get to his level.

And I'm not saying so as his daughter only.

Nontheless, as tasty as it may taste, I shouldn't be craving a heaps of it. After today's meeting with Breadly, I ensured him, and mainly myself, that I will take notice of my eating habbits. And what's more better if I'll start preparing the meals independently?

That could be a good way to go with. A little assiduity won't harm.

And so I did. I marched toward to fridge only to get some vegetables off, aiming to pamper myself with a delectable meal. As a daughter of a chef, I've learned and studied plenty of recipes which are facile to recall and concoct.

The thing is, I haven't done any of it.

But I'm now forcing my sluggard self to work it better. For today being, I'm planning to cut a good-looking-tasting salad, finally not depending on my dad to do so for me. It's either he brought the Foodad's left salads, nor made new ones at home. Such a sedulous human being.

All in my thoughts, the sound of heavy steps resonated in my ears. I must have awaken him with my noises...

"How you doing, honey?" He questioned with droppy face and eyes. It seemed that he had a seriously pleasing sleep.

"Suiting myself with a delayed lunch." I stated, awaring of the upcoming reaction of his. As a rule, he's the cooker one in the house, whereas I mostly responsible on basic assigments. Cleaning, laundering, folding up and such. So, it is much legitimic for him to marvel.

I'm even surprised myself of my own action.

"No need to trouble yourself when you have plenty of made meals. I'll pour the food for you, honey. You go settle in." Dad suggested nicely, despite him tiring himself at work too many. But if there's one thing I've learned of my dad, is that nothing is too much for him.