I sat on the floor, my back to the steps, watching Irene as she stood in the kitchen.
She had taken it upon herself to cook, which was proving to be rather entertaining, as she had no idea what she was doing.
“Are you sure you don’t want some help?” I asked.
She paused, looking around, “No, I can do this. Where is the, uh, the thing that you put food in?”
I raised a brow, and amused smile on my lips, “Do you mean the pots and pans?”
“Right! That stuff.”
“I’m not sure, you and Isa did the kitchen.”
“Oh, right, of course.”
I watched as she hunted through the cupboards in search of what she needed.
I wasn’t quite sure what had brought this on, she had no reason to prove herself, yet she seemed hell bent on doing it.
“Irene, you really don’t have to do this, I can do the cooking.”
“
