February 11, 1999
Ten-year-old Molly looked at the dinner preparations. Her little blue eyes darted back and forth. Everything was in place. Grandpa and Grandma were coming to dinner that evening. They had traveled Europe once. They had gone to England and said how wonderful it was there. This year in fifth grade, for extra curricular activity, the teacher had each student prepare a dinner. The dinner had to be of that countries origin. Well, little Molly was assigned England.
“So, what do you plan to make?” Molly’s mom questioned, eyes dancing.
“Hm…” Molly thought aloud. “What does England eat?”
“Well…” She chuckled and walked over to her laptop computer. “I know they like scones!”
“Hm…you should call Grandpa, he’s been there. Maybe he would know?” Molly’s mom suggested.
“Yea! I’ll do that! What’s his number?” She said eagerly.
“Here,” Molly’s mom grabbed the house phone and began dialing. She handed the phone to Molly.
The kitchen smelled of roasting lamb chops, which wafted throughout the house. Little Molly propped herself on the kitchen counter. Her mother stood by her. Molly with much effort watched impatiently the boiling potatoes. Her nose scrunched in determination. Freckles scattered carelessly across her chubby face. Red hair pulled up into a small ponytail, keeping it out of her face. Then she looked on the other side of the pot. Another pot sits boiling something else. “Yuck! I don’t like those.” Molly protested the little green veggie balls in the other pot of boiling water.
“Someday you may like them.” Molly’s mom chuckled.
“I don’t think so…” Molly wide eyed them. “Because they’re YUCK!”
“Remember, Grandpa and Grandma like them.”
“But, does England like them?” Molly scrunched her nose even more.
“I think so.” Molly’s mom smiled.
“Yuck!” She stuck out her tongue.
“Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding-ding ding" The little kitchen timer shrieked. Interrupting the little discussion of the nasty things so-called “brussel spouts” And declaring quite loudly, that the sixty minutes was up. "Oh! You better get down, I'll check that." Her mother prodded her off the counter.
Molly hopped off weightlessly and walked to the fridge door, pulled it open. She stifled through containers, and drawers. She pulled out some cream (for the tea and coffee). In addition, some ginger ale. Even if it was not an English favorite, her Grandpa sure loved the stuff.
“Remember the--what sauce is it?” Molly’s mother asked, although she knew what kind of sauce. It was a school project after all. Molly was to be graded.
“Mint sauce.” Molly corrected, in her cute ten-year-old correctional voice. She gathered up the sauce along with the few other items.
The table adorned with a fine white lace tablecloth. Molly’s mom even brought out her fine china for this special occasion. Silverware set ever so neatly next to the plates. In addition, the water goblets waited silently at each person’s assigned seat. Cute little hand-folded napkins were beside each plate also. Molly had precisely folded each one.
Molly was on her way back to the dining room table when the front door opened.
"They're here!" Molly announced excitedly. She rushed to the table, dropped everything onto it. "Grandma! Grandpa!" She squealed in delight. Grandpa wrapped her in a big bear hug, lifting her almost onto his shoulders. However, she was a little too big for that. "My you're getting big!"
“What about me?” Grandma said with delight.
Molly got free from Grandpa’s bear hug and rushed to Grandma, giving her a big bear hug as well.
“That’s more like it!” Grandma grinned wide.
“Oooo! Something smells good! I hope there’s enough for everyone else!”
“Grandpa!” Molly whined jokingly.
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