Mage Chronicles: The Journey.

BITTER-SWEET.

The memory fades and almost immediately another takes over, it starts with the overwhelming smell of blueberries, and vanilla and... was that chicken?

                                                                                             *****

"I don't think he's even blinking."

"What do you mean?" Mama who's moving around in my kitchen asks.

"Look at him! He's so...invested!"

As if on cue Blue squeals clapping his hands, and then he turns around to see if I noticed any of it.

"Wow! Mama, Wow!"

"Yes, he's very impressive," I answer him referring to the chef doing what could only be termed as stunts on TV, cause who the hell cooks like that?

Blue looks at me expectantly and I proceed to clap my hands excitedly like he just did. I get a nod of approval as he turns back to the TV. I should get him more books.

"See!" he squeals again clapping even harder.

There was nothing that amazing about cooking little man. Wait till you're old enough to do chores.

My inner grumblings are cut off when he turns to me again and I proceed to clap and squeal only with half the energy and zero enthusiasm.

Mama comes to sit across from us chuckling to herself at our interactions.

"Maybe he just loves the fact that you're here to enjoy it with him," she suggests.

Well, that made me feel guilty.

I had been practicing extra hard these days in preparation for upcoming company auditions and it had eaten into my free time ergo our son and mum time.

"Hey Blue, how about cooking with me tomorrow?" I ask and the excitement on my baby's face when he turns to me adds to the guilt. Damn, I must have been neglecting him, he can't be that excited about work.

"Really Mama!" he asks practically vibrating in his seat.

"Too late to back out now," Mama whispers into her tea a smirk on her face.

"Really really!" I answer his excitement finally getting to me.

"What will you be cooking? Mama asks.

"Chicken!"

"Cake!"

Blue and I glare at each other as our answers conflict.

"No way Knox, we are making chicken."

"Blue making cake!"

"Chicken!"

"Cake!"

"How about you make both," Mama suggests.

"What? Hell n..."

My protests are cut off by Blue's squeal in favour of the horrible, horrible suggestion.

"Mama happy and Blue happy!"

No! Mama definitely not happy, and it must show on my face because Mama tries to placate me.

"Relax," she croons, "You can pop the chicken in the air-fryer like you were going to anyway, and spend more time with the cake."

Only the issue wasn't the amount of work for each meal or the amount of time but the mess baking was going to create.

"I'll help with the clean-up, how bad can he get it's not like he would fly around and he can't run around that much yet, it will be limited to the kitchen.

Mama totally jinxed us.

                                                                                            *****

"YOU...SAID...HE...COULDN'T...FLY!" I exclaim holding onto the kitchen island for support.

"He couldn't! Those things literally just sprouted off his back." Mama answers from where she's leaning against the stove trying to catch her breath, she wasn't even human and she was wiped.

We were currently taking a break from chasing my wonderful beautiful boy up and down the house. I was going to need one of those CleanTok videos for my upholstery.

Cooking had begun smoothly, suspiciously so in fact. The chicken was cooking in the fryer and the first batch of blueberry vanilla Muffins was in the oven. Then shit hit the fan—literatim.

Mama was popping the first batch into the ovens while Blue and I worked on the batter for the next one. Then he got possessed and upended the entire thing on both of us. The little hellion proceeds to slide across the island, away from me, an effort aided by the spilt batter.

Worried he'd fall, I reach for him instinctively and I'm rewarded by an entire front covered in the same batter.

It gets better.

Blue decides that my efforts were extremely funny and equally entertaining and he gets the brightest idea to turn it all into a game. Picture this; two adults chasing a kid around the kitchen island where he's cleaving through all the ingredients laid out spilling some to the floor, which in turn makes the floor slippery.

We finally manage to corner him but when I lunge for him, I'm left clutching at air.

"Where...where did he go?" I ask Mama as we both look at my hands in confusion.

A giggle from above our heads has us moving albeit reluctantly to the source of the sound.

"Are those wings?"

"They look like wings."

"How does he know how to fly already?"

"I don't know Mahi, instinct?"

Blue lets out another giggle which causes him to let go of the pendant light he was using to hover.

I scream moving to catch him before he hits the ground only for him to ascend again. Then proceeded another game of chase, only our prey wasn't moving on the ground, but hopping around in the air.

His movement not restricted, Blue leads us around the house, moving back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. This goes around for about ten minutes before he tuckers out and lands back on the kitchen island promptly passing out, finally!

This is how Mama and I end up in our respective spots and postures trying not to die.

"It smells good in here, what are you guys making...ohhh!"

I turn towards the newcomer relief almost crippling me, Papa was here, he'd fix everything.

"That's not where the eggs and flour go," he says after scanning the mess.

"No shit honey," Mama answers in a huff.

Then she turns to me, "We should have stuck with chicken."

"Uh-huh," I answer as Blue begins to stir.

"Wait, are those wings?" Papa exclaims cueing hysterical laughter from mama and I.