Caramel Sundae

Six

~SIX~

The days still continued to stretch out, long and hot, which meant that sunshine penetrating my room was my new alarm clock every morning.

Joining my family (well, okay, just Mum and Dad, because Summer was in her room- God knows what she did in there, concocted poisons, maybe? She tended to stay in there for a lot of the day) at the counter, I noticed that Dad's nose has turned red, raw and flaky.

I burst out laughing.

"What is it?" Dad asked, blinking in confusion.

This caused me to laugh harder, and I brought a finger to point towards his face. "Your-your nose, Dad!"

He looked affronted, raising a hand to cover it from my view. "This is the first time I've ever gotten sunburnt, don't be so mean!"

"Now you know what it's like for all of us amateurs who weren't born in Spain," Mom teased.

Dad looked even more put out, and proceeded to slurp his morning cup of coffee loudly.

"Luke! How are we ever going to teach our children good manners if you're sitting there drinking like a hippo?"

This time, it was my turn to be put out. "You make us sound like five-year-olds!" I pouted. "We're not babies, you know."

"You're my babies," Mom grinned jokingly.

"Mom, do me one favour, would you? Never say that in front of my friends. Or anyone, for that matter." I mean, my friends thought my parents were cool. Little did they know how embarrassing they could be.

"You're starting to sound like Summer now," Dad joked (or, at least, I sincerely hope he was joking).

I made a face while Mom got up and began roaming around the kitchen, raiding the fridge and cupboards.

"I think I'll make some smoothies!" she told us enthusiastically, and began setting orange juice, frozen yoghurt and a banana out on the counter.

She frowned. "Shoot, we're all out of strawberries. Zara, honey, could you run into town and grab a box of them?"

"Why?" I whined. "Can't you do it yourself?"

"Well, I'm still in my pyjamas," Mom said, fidgeting with the hem of her vest top.

"So am I," I pointed out.

"You won't get any smoothie if you don't."

"That's bribery!"

"Please?"

I sighed. "Just admit it, Mom; you're too lazy to get showered and dressed and walk into town yourself, so you're sending your daughter to do it instead."

Mom gave a fake gasp, bringing a hand to her chest as if she was deeply offended. "How could you say that, Zara, I'm not lazy! I just didn't go for my run this morning because I was tired after last night." Dad's colleagues didn't leave until after ten yesterday, and then Mom had to do the washing-up and everything, while Summer and I hibernated in our rooms.

"Do I have to?" I persisted. The hot weather was getting to me; I felt so inactive, and it was too early to get dressed, anyway. It was only ten.

"Yep," Mom grinned. "I'll start making the smoothie, okay?" She began peeling the banana.

I sighed, grabbed a soft bread roll from the bread basket, and hopped in the shower, throwing on a t-shirt and shorts and putting my hair in a messy ponytail; it wasn't like I was intending on being seen by anyone, or anything.