It was a cold rainy day in the town of Morgantown. Having arrived so sleepily at 2 AM I -awakened at 10 AM local time and alas! I spotted it. The desire of my heart…frog-eyed salad. Toada Lynn (aka my sister Brittany) and I tip-toed through the kitchen for it was a well-known fact that our mother would not like us to sample the goodie prematurely.
Suddenly, concern croweded my thoughts. NO SPOONS! Luckily, Toada whipped them out of her hoodie sweatshirt like a true partner in crime. Stealthily, we opened the lid to the treasure and dipped the spoons in the whipped goodness. Words cannot express the true joy we found in those stolen minutes in time. But it was not meant to last. We heard steady footsteps approaching that could only belong to our mother, the guardian of the frog-eyed salad. In a great frenzy, we snapped the lid on and Toada took it to the far corner in desperate hope that the guardian would only be passing through. In one quick motion that could only belong to a seasoned veteren, she slowly slid toward the fridge door. In a true stroke of genius I managed to deflect our mother’s eyes and thoughts toward Christmas and peanut butter fudge. Knowing our mother’s sweet tooth, we knew she would take the bait.
The fridge door closed with the frog-eyed salad in tact and we declared a silent victory to be celebrated later.
Written by Toada Lynn as narrated to Amy (aka M)