Chapter Text
Claire poked at the mess on her plate and frowned. “What is this?”
“Eggs,” Her father, Cas, replied. “Eat up, you have to get ready for school.”
“Dad, eggs are not supposed to be black.” She grimaced and set her fork down. He sighed and rolled his eyes as he carried a plate over and set it in front of her.
“Stop complaining and eat,” he ordered. She picked up one of the blackened squares on the plate and squinted at it.
“Is this supposed to be toast?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Why is this black too?”
He growled as he carried his own plate to the table and sat down across from her. “Do you ever stop complaining?”
She smirked as she picked up her fork and used it to scrape the burnt part off the toast. Once she could see brown again she grabbed the butter and smeared it on. The eggs were inedible, but the toast was somewhat salvageable. She watched as her father scooped up a forkful of his own black, somewhat slimy-looking eggs and put it in his mouth. Two seconds later he was spitting it back onto the plate.
“These are disgusting.” He grabbed his glass of orange juice and drank half of it down in an attempt to wash the taste out of his mouth. “I followed the instructions; I don’t know how this happened.”
“Face it dad, there are many things you are talented at, but cooking is not one of them.” She finished her piece of toast and stood up, grabbing her plate and carrying it over to the garbage can and throwing it out. When she turned around he was holding his own plate out. She laughed as she grabbed it and tossed his eggs in the garbage too.
“Here, grab yourself something edible out of the vending machine at school.” He handed over $5 and she tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans. Now she could get a muffin or a bagel. Either was preferable to what he’d just tried to serve for breakfast.
“I have to get going or I’ll be late. Do me a favor? Please don’t try to cook anything else.” She kissed the top of his head as she passed by, grabbing her backpack on her way out. He sighed and got up to put the burned pan and the dirty plates in the sink.
“Maybe I’ll be better at making chicken,” he pondered. Yes, he’d try making dinner tonight. There had to be something he could cook right.