In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Singin’ in the Rain.”
The house if filled with the aroma of fresh-baked bread in the oven, because there is always fresh bread on the most perfect of afternoons.
My mother sits with me on our living room couch as we watch the rain fall onto the grass outside. My brothers are not there, but we can hear them playing video games in their room. I can hear my father snoring from his room across the house. My mother and I talk about nothing and everything. We talk about what color the living room should be painted next and how she wishes she could see the world. Machu Picchu is first up on her list. We make plans to go together to Scandinavia and see the northern lights. Not anytime in the near future, but someday.
The timer beeps on the stove, telling us that our bread is ready and we decide that it would go well with some eggs. I put on some boots and head outside to our chicken coop. I do not run because there is no need to. I do not wear a coat because I like the rain. It feels refreshing against my face and the sting of cold in my cheeks makes me that much more appreciative of the warmth when I return inside.
I am greeted with the happy cluck-clucking of the hens as I enter the coop. They are hungry, as always. All of them hop down from their nests when I open the food container and pour some new food into their hanging dish. I seize the opportunity and run off with their eggs.
By the time I come inside, the bread has already been cut and my brothers have emerged from their den to steal a slice. I wash the eggs and crack a few into a pan on the stove. My favorite ones are the green ones because they remind me of Green Eggs and Ham, by Dr. Seuss. The book my mom read my and my brothers countless times when we were young. Somewhere between over-easy and over-medium, by dad wakes up from his nap to join. Nobody wants to miss out on fresh eggs and bread. My dad lists off projects that he wants to do around the property and my brothers sigh, knowing all too well that they will be his helpers.
After we have finished our meal, we put on a movie and sit on the couch with some hot cocoa. Even though the movie is playing, I can still hear the tap-tap of rain against the window behind us. I look around. My mom has dozed off while cuddling with my dad and youngest brother is texting his friends. There is nothing spectacular about days like this, and yet they are my favorite of days. Despite the cold outside, they are filled with warmth.
I smile and take a sip of my cocoa. How could anybody ever want more than this?