(Untitled)

[single_digit]

Eddie was sans child this morning and moving around the kitchen all the quicker for it. Said child had managed to get into the jam the moment Eddie brought her into the kitchen, so said child was now enjoying a nice warm bath while her mum tried to get bits of strawberry and gelatin out of her hair

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[iwakeup]

Ruth likes it when I eat breakfast, and I'm up so I figure I'll go get breakfast, and it smells pretty good when I walk in in my socks and I can't remember whether I combed my hair or not.

There's a guy sitting at the table, and I don't recognise him, which doesn't mean we haven't met, so I wave, just in case.

[single_digit]

"Morning," said Eddie, giving him a wave in return. He didn't think he knew him, but that didn't mean he shouldn't be friendly. That was his job now. "Try the ham, it should still be hot from the frying pan."

[iwakeup]

"Smells good," I say, starting to help myself. "You make all this?"

I blush. Hell, I can't even work out how to open a damn can most often.

[single_digit]

"More or less," said Eddie, surveying what he'd done. "Most of it I just found in the fridge and fried it up. Except the juice, I didn't fry the juice. I didn't make it myself either, it was just there."

[moraldyslexic]

"Your kid didn't help today, did she?" Lennox asked with a grin as he came into the kitchen. Emmy was nowhere to be seen and Eddie wasn't covered in coffee or anything, which meant she was probably being kept out of the way by Lily.

[single_digit]

"She tried, but she didn't get far," said Eddie. "I think her mum's got her in the bath still. She could probably have used one anyway; kids get grubby so fast, especially around here."

[moraldyslexic]

"What'd she get into?" Lennox asked, still grinning as he helped himself to a cup of coffee and then looked for the dirtiest, stickiest thing Eddie was serving. That was probably what Emmy had wanted to play with.

[single_digit]

"The jam," admitted Eddie, trying not to say which jam. "She got it all over, but mostly all over herself."

[holdthebucket]

Gordon Cutter was in the midst of a Temper.

It was, more or less, a constant state of being, generally only mediated by spikes in his blood pressure and hallucinogenics. But now, today, he stormed the kitchen fully sober with a forty pound dead weight at his side and confronted the most likely source of the latest transgression.

"Eddie Strombeck," he growled, landing the pink curling stone in a plate of fried eggs. "Explain this Barbie Dream House monstrosity at once."

[single_digit]

"It's... a curling rock," said Eddie, staring at it warily and wondering what it had done to Gordon. Then he realised something else. "Hey! It's a curling rock!"

[holdthebucket]

"It is a hot pink, nay, magenta desocration," Gordon said. He stared hard at his player, pursing his lips. At length, he waved one arm sharply.

"By all things great and holy, man! It has got glitter in!"

[single_digit]

"Yeah," Eddie admitted, taking a good hard look at the curling rock. It was, in fact, very pink. And it did, in fact, have glitter. "But does it work?"