W is for Whisk
When Travis came home from work and walked through the door of the kitchen, he was greeted by smells of all kinds. There was chocolate and sugar and gingerbread, oh my! It was like a party in his nose. He found his wife vigorously stirring a bowl. Strands of dark hair that had fallen out of her messy bun framed her face, and the apron sloppily tied around her waist was covered in flour. Katie was so into her work that she didn't even seem to notice Travis come through the door. That is until he tried to grab at a freshly-baked cookie. She immediately swung around, pointing her whisk viciously in his face.
"Don't you dare touch that cookie, Stoll, unless you want me to punch you in the mouth with my neck," Katie warned through clenched teeth. She had a crazy ass look in her eyes, making Travis back up a bit, hands up in self-defense.
"I'd actually kind of like to see that. How would you punch me . . . with your neck? I would be extremely impressed if you did that. Just saying." Even with a metal whisk covered in a green substance he couldn't exactly identify all up in his grill, Travis managed to sound as nonchalant as possible.
With a roll of her eyes and a heavy sigh, Katie turned back to the bowl in front of her and continued her vicious stirring. "I don't have time for your stupid, sarcastic comments right now, Travis."
"Then I won't say any more," he whispered, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently. Her whisking softened and she seemed to relax a bit in his hold. Travis pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck gingerly. "What's with all the baking?" he asked, his lips tickling her skin.
Katie sighed once more and turned around in his arms. Staring up at him, she frowned. "The boys just told me an hour ago that they're having a bake sale tomorrow at school."
"So?" Travis asked, watching the rhythmic motions of her hands as she messed with his tie.
"So they're supposed to bring in three dozens cookies each. How the hell am I supposed to cook 108 cookies in three hours? It's ridiculous!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.
"Why isn't Mary helping you?" He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.
Katie sighed once more and turned back to the cookie dough, using a spoon to scoop it up and plop it down onto the cookie sheet next to the bowl. "She wouldn't get off that stupid phone of hers. Apparently there's some 'supermegafoxyawesomehot' new guy who Regina won't stop talking about." She rolled her eyes and continued with her baking, placing some M&M's atop each pile of dough.
"Does this boy have a name?" Travis asked, eyebrows furrowed in anger.
Katie rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Travis, okay? I still have 6 dozen more cookies to bake and listening to the Glee Christmas album can only pass the time so fast." As soon as each cookie had exactly three M&M's - none of the same color on one cookie, of course - Katie nodded proudly and opened up the oven, sending a wave of heat across her face. Once the timer was on and the cookies were in, she stood back up and turned around. The sight in front of her made her freeze.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked as Travis tied an apron around his waist.
"I'm gonna help you," he said, lifting his head to stare at her with a smile. "Cuz that's the kind of husband I am."
"Oooh, no, no, no," Katie said, shaking her head and moving back to the counter. She scooped a bowl of cookie dough on to a sheet of wax paper and began rolling it out slowly. "You are not helping me bake these cookies."
"And why is that?"
"Do you not remember the whole Thanksgiving fiasco a few years back?" she asked with raised eyebrows while still rolling out the dough. "You can't cook for shit, my dear. And you're just going to distract me the entire time. I'd rather just do this by myself."
"But-"
"No."
"But-"
"Travis."
"But-"
Katie's head shot up and she glared at him angrily. "Out," she seethed, pointing towards the door. With a melodramatic groan and a roll of his eyes, Travis stomped out the door. Katie sighed, thankful for the silence and continued with her cooking. That silence didn't last that long though. Travis came back through the door with his chin up, refusing to meet her eyes.
"I don't want your stupid apron," he said angrily, tearing the pink cloth off his waist and throwing it on the floor. As he stomped out, Katie turned back to the dough, rolling it a few more times to make it the perfect thickness. Just as she was about to get the Christmas tree cookie cutter, the door slammed open once more.
"I forgot my phone!" Travis declared, lumbering into the kitchen haughtily before running out once more. Katie didn't even go back to the cookies, knowing that he'd walk back in at least once more. Just as she had predicted, Travis barged into the kitchen mere seconds later.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sick and tired of your attitude today," he began, vigorously nodding his head with a determined expression etched on his face. "All I wanted to do was help and - yay!" he squealed, sounding very much like a small girl as Katie held out the cookie cutter for him to grab.
"You're cutting these out and you're only cutting these out," she ordered. "Do not cut your fingers off. Ya got that?"
"Yes ma'am," he said with a toothy smile, grabbing the cookie cutter eagerly and hopping about like a puppy.
As they baked in silence, Katie kept glancing Travis's way. She was praying to every god and goddess she could think of that he didn't mess those cookies up. She didn't know what she'd do then. There wouldn't be enough time to make more. Maybe the boys could just take the messed up ones anyway. I mean, that teacher deserved some dog poop cookies, making Katie bake nine dozen of them. Ridiculous.
"Finished!" Travis suddenly announced, bringing Katie out of her thoughts. She went around the island to look at the raw cookies. They weren't terrible, exactly.
With a sigh, Katie grabbed a bowl of small candies. "They're good enough, I guess. Now can you handle decorating them?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed excitedly, grabbing for the bowl with eager hands.
"You put one yellow one at the top like a star and three other ones all over the rest of the cookie. Okay?" Travis nodded his head vigorously before taking a candy from the bowl and popping it in his mouth. "Travis!" Katie yelled.
"What?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
"You can't eat the candies!"
"Come on," he groaned. "It's just one candy. Live a little. Eat one, too." Travis dipped his hand in the bowl and brought it up, meaning to pop a small candy in his wife's mouth. But, no. Instead he accidentally dropped his hand in the flour dish, bringing it up and flicking it into her face.
They stood there in silence, both of their mouths slightly agape in shock. "Katie," Travis began quietly and slowly, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear."
She glared at him, her nostrils flaring and her cheeks flaming. "Really?" she asked. "You didn't mean to?"
Travis shook his head. "No," he whispered.
"Oh. So I guess if I go like this," she said, grabbing an egg, tapping it against the counter, bringing it above Travis's head, and opening it, letting the yolk and egg white run down his hair, "it's perfectly okay. Because I didn't mean to."
"You just cracked an egg on my head," Travis stated.
"Why thank you Captain Obvious."
"Really, Senorita Sarcastic? Really?" He then placed his hand atop his head, and scooped as much of the egg gunk into his hand as possible.
"Don't you-" began Katie, but she was too late. Travis plopped the raw egg on her hair and watched as it dripped on to her face.
He shrugged. "Whoops. Didn't mean to."
From there, it was full on war. They were throwing everything they could at each other. From eggs to flour to sugar to butter. It was madness, sheer madness.
But then Travis grabbed for a cookie.
"Travis. I swear to the gods. If you touch those cookies-"
But he did worse than touch the cookies. He did worse than throwing the cookies. He did worse than crumbling up the cookies and tossing the crumbs to the floor.
He. Ate. The cookie.
Katie dropped the bottle of vanilla she was holding to the floor and seemed to whimper a bit. "You . . . You just ate a cookie."
Travis's triumphant smile faded as he saw the sadness etched on her face. "Oh, Katie. I'm sorry. I'll-I'll make another cookie or-or something," he said, running around the island to come and put his arms around her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and sniffled. He had no idea this whole baking thing had so much affect on her.
"I promise I'll never ever eat another one of those cookies ever again. And I'll do anything to make it up to you. I am so sorry." She started shaking in his arms and he stared down at her disbelievingly. "Are-Are you crying?"
Katie then lifted her head to stare up at him, a smile on her face. "Wha-" he began, confusion in his eyes. He was quickly cut off as an egg was smashed atop his head.
Katie said with a laugh, "You are never cooking with me again."
"Don't you dare touch that cookie, Stoll, unless you want me to punch you in the mouth with my neck," Katie warned through clenched teeth. She had a crazy ass look in her eyes, making Travis back up a bit, hands up in self-defense.
"I'd actually kind of like to see that. How would you punch me . . . with your neck? I would be extremely impressed if you did that. Just saying." Even with a metal whisk covered in a green substance he couldn't exactly identify all up in his grill, Travis managed to sound as nonchalant as possible.
With a roll of her eyes and a heavy sigh, Katie turned back to the bowl in front of her and continued her vicious stirring. "I don't have time for your stupid, sarcastic comments right now, Travis."
"Then I won't say any more," he whispered, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently. Her whisking softened and she seemed to relax a bit in his hold. Travis pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck gingerly. "What's with all the baking?" he asked, his lips tickling her skin.
Katie sighed once more and turned around in his arms. Staring up at him, she frowned. "The boys just told me an hour ago that they're having a bake sale tomorrow at school."
"So?" Travis asked, watching the rhythmic motions of her hands as she messed with his tie.
"So they're supposed to bring in three dozens cookies each. How the hell am I supposed to cook 108 cookies in three hours? It's ridiculous!" she exclaimed, shaking her head.
"Why isn't Mary helping you?" He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.
Katie sighed once more and turned back to the cookie dough, using a spoon to scoop it up and plop it down onto the cookie sheet next to the bowl. "She wouldn't get off that stupid phone of hers. Apparently there's some 'supermegafoxyawesomehot' new guy who Regina won't stop talking about." She rolled her eyes and continued with her baking, placing some M&M's atop each pile of dough.
"Does this boy have a name?" Travis asked, eyebrows furrowed in anger.
Katie rolled her eyes. "It doesn't matter, Travis, okay? I still have 6 dozen more cookies to bake and listening to the Glee Christmas album can only pass the time so fast." As soon as each cookie had exactly three M&M's - none of the same color on one cookie, of course - Katie nodded proudly and opened up the oven, sending a wave of heat across her face. Once the timer was on and the cookies were in, she stood back up and turned around. The sight in front of her made her freeze.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked as Travis tied an apron around his waist.
"I'm gonna help you," he said, lifting his head to stare at her with a smile. "Cuz that's the kind of husband I am."
"Oooh, no, no, no," Katie said, shaking her head and moving back to the counter. She scooped a bowl of cookie dough on to a sheet of wax paper and began rolling it out slowly. "You are not helping me bake these cookies."
"And why is that?"
"Do you not remember the whole Thanksgiving fiasco a few years back?" she asked with raised eyebrows while still rolling out the dough. "You can't cook for shit, my dear. And you're just going to distract me the entire time. I'd rather just do this by myself."
"But-"
"No."
"But-"
"Travis."
"But-"
Katie's head shot up and she glared at him angrily. "Out," she seethed, pointing towards the door. With a melodramatic groan and a roll of his eyes, Travis stomped out the door. Katie sighed, thankful for the silence and continued with her cooking. That silence didn't last that long though. Travis came back through the door with his chin up, refusing to meet her eyes.
"I don't want your stupid apron," he said angrily, tearing the pink cloth off his waist and throwing it on the floor. As he stomped out, Katie turned back to the dough, rolling it a few more times to make it the perfect thickness. Just as she was about to get the Christmas tree cookie cutter, the door slammed open once more.
"I forgot my phone!" Travis declared, lumbering into the kitchen haughtily before running out once more. Katie didn't even go back to the cookies, knowing that he'd walk back in at least once more. Just as she had predicted, Travis barged into the kitchen mere seconds later.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sick and tired of your attitude today," he began, vigorously nodding his head with a determined expression etched on his face. "All I wanted to do was help and - yay!" he squealed, sounding very much like a small girl as Katie held out the cookie cutter for him to grab.
"You're cutting these out and you're only cutting these out," she ordered. "Do not cut your fingers off. Ya got that?"
"Yes ma'am," he said with a toothy smile, grabbing the cookie cutter eagerly and hopping about like a puppy.
As they baked in silence, Katie kept glancing Travis's way. She was praying to every god and goddess she could think of that he didn't mess those cookies up. She didn't know what she'd do then. There wouldn't be enough time to make more. Maybe the boys could just take the messed up ones anyway. I mean, that teacher deserved some dog poop cookies, making Katie bake nine dozen of them. Ridiculous.
"Finished!" Travis suddenly announced, bringing Katie out of her thoughts. She went around the island to look at the raw cookies. They weren't terrible, exactly.
With a sigh, Katie grabbed a bowl of small candies. "They're good enough, I guess. Now can you handle decorating them?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed excitedly, grabbing for the bowl with eager hands.
"You put one yellow one at the top like a star and three other ones all over the rest of the cookie. Okay?" Travis nodded his head vigorously before taking a candy from the bowl and popping it in his mouth. "Travis!" Katie yelled.
"What?" he asked with raised eyebrows.
"You can't eat the candies!"
"Come on," he groaned. "It's just one candy. Live a little. Eat one, too." Travis dipped his hand in the bowl and brought it up, meaning to pop a small candy in his wife's mouth. But, no. Instead he accidentally dropped his hand in the flour dish, bringing it up and flicking it into her face.
They stood there in silence, both of their mouths slightly agape in shock. "Katie," Travis began quietly and slowly, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear."
She glared at him, her nostrils flaring and her cheeks flaming. "Really?" she asked. "You didn't mean to?"
Travis shook his head. "No," he whispered.
"Oh. So I guess if I go like this," she said, grabbing an egg, tapping it against the counter, bringing it above Travis's head, and opening it, letting the yolk and egg white run down his hair, "it's perfectly okay. Because I didn't mean to."
"You just cracked an egg on my head," Travis stated.
"Why thank you Captain Obvious."
"Really, Senorita Sarcastic? Really?" He then placed his hand atop his head, and scooped as much of the egg gunk into his hand as possible.
"Don't you-" began Katie, but she was too late. Travis plopped the raw egg on her hair and watched as it dripped on to her face.
He shrugged. "Whoops. Didn't mean to."
From there, it was full on war. They were throwing everything they could at each other. From eggs to flour to sugar to butter. It was madness, sheer madness.
But then Travis grabbed for a cookie.
"Travis. I swear to the gods. If you touch those cookies-"
But he did worse than touch the cookies. He did worse than throwing the cookies. He did worse than crumbling up the cookies and tossing the crumbs to the floor.
He. Ate. The cookie.
Katie dropped the bottle of vanilla she was holding to the floor and seemed to whimper a bit. "You . . . You just ate a cookie."
Travis's triumphant smile faded as he saw the sadness etched on her face. "Oh, Katie. I'm sorry. I'll-I'll make another cookie or-or something," he said, running around the island to come and put his arms around her. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and sniffled. He had no idea this whole baking thing had so much affect on her.
"I promise I'll never ever eat another one of those cookies ever again. And I'll do anything to make it up to you. I am so sorry." She started shaking in his arms and he stared down at her disbelievingly. "Are-Are you crying?"
Katie then lifted her head to stare up at him, a smile on her face. "Wha-" he began, confusion in his eyes. He was quickly cut off as an egg was smashed atop his head.
Katie said with a laugh, "You are never cooking with me again."