I watch them leave.
"Prince!"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"I'm not a sweetheart, I'm a diamond!"
"I'm hungry."
"Oh God, that's a problem. I have no idea how to cook."
"We're hungry too! We want oatmeal!"
"Yes, oatmeal," they say in unison, sending shivers down my spine. What do I do? Keelan think. My mother! I grab the phone and dial her number.
"Hello, son, are you okay?"
"Yes! Mom, calm down."
"It's just that you never call this early."
"Well, Mom, how do I explain this? I have a small problem."
"What is it?"
"I need to make oatmeal, and I have no idea how."
"Ha, ha, ha, the great ice prince cooking. Are you sure you're feeling alright, darling?"
"Yes, Mom, I'll explain later! Can you help me?"
"Yes, son! Take notes." I write everything down under the watchful eyes of the triplets
