How the Cookie Crumbles

Life in the fast and slow lanes after SIXTY-FIVE

#BlogBattle Week 9


Rachael Ritchey is the originator of this challenge

The prompt is …bun…

To join in click:


Sylvie plonked the groceries on the floor. Clunk. She shrugged off her coat in a rush and headed to the kitchen. Halfway, she made an about face, hung her coat in the closet and grabbed her shopping.

Her cell spun on the counter, but she ignored it while it vibrated in circles. Purchases stored, she put on the kettle and dropped into a kitchen chair. The Thompsons and Millers weren’t due until seven, she had time to change her planned dessert. I should bake something special tonight, but what?

The kettle clicked off. She sighed and rose to make tea. The aroma of herbed roast beef filled the kitchen, Mr. Crockpot, her ever faithful helper, hard at work again. She peeked through the glass lid and gave it a loving pat. Okay, five minutes—maybe ten—and I’m off to set the table.


Half an hour later Sylvie laid out fresh clothes and headed to the shower. She frowned into the mirror, turned this way and that, smoothed faint lines around her eyes and caressed her temples, covering hints of gray threaded through mousey brown hair. Time for a color. Forty-one in a month. Imagine… Stop!

As always, the front door clicked open and slammed shut at exactly six o’clock. Sylvie smiled and rushed down the hall to meet her husband inserting an earring on the way. Arms outstretched, she rushed to embrace him.

“George, darling.”

He let out a bark of laughter, eyes aglow with surprise, and caught her in his arms.


At 6:51 p.m., the doorbell chimed. “I’ll bet my favorite shoes that’s my mom and dad. Always first. Always early.” Sylvie arranged pots on the stove in readiness for turning on during cocktails.

“Mom and Dad Thompson. Come in, come in.” George kissed his mother-in-law’s powdered cheek and shook hands with her new husband, who had been blessed with a head of dense cloud-white hair. Before he’d dispensed with their coats, the doorbell announced another arrival. “Mom. Dad. Come in.”

Sylvie tossed her apron on a kitchen chair and joined them, waving them into the Great Room. The still bare fields and garden were spectacular through the entire outside wall of windows.

“How are the twins doing at university?” her mother asked.

“They’ll be finished in less than two months and have to face the real world,” George said, a faraway look in his eyes. “How about drinks?” He rubbed his hands with zest. “Same as usual for everyone?” Nods and echoes of agreement ensued. The grandparents settled into their established seats. The women sank into the sofa facing the garden and the men into Easy Boys across from them, foot rests raised at once.

General greetings exchanged, George delivered drinks on a tray and raised his glass. “A toast to our health at this happy gathering.” Glasses extended, nodding and hear-hears resonated around the room. The seats too far apart, only the grandmothers clinked glasses.

“Excuse me one moment.” George disappeared around the corner. Upon his immediate return, Sylvie sprang from the hard-backed chair of choice and exchanged a glance with her husband. He presented a white plate to the room. “Look what came out of the oven.”

“What’s this about done? Gun? What did he say? Her step-father cupped a hand to his ear and squinted at his wife.

“He said nothing of the sort,” she said, eyes twice their usual size, one hand grazed Mrs. Miller’s lap. They both stared at Sylvie.

“I said, look what I found in the oven.” George grinned from ear to ear tipping the plate several degrees.

His father scratched his chin, wiry salt and pepper eyebrows squished together. He studied the faces around him. “So?”

George set the plate on the coffee table and wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. They grinned like children with a secret. Sylvie leaned her head back against his shoulder. Both grandmothers gaped at each other, then back at their children while their spouses sat perplexed.

George’s father shifted in his seat. “Will somebody say something? What in heck’s going on?”

“How do you feel about this, Sylvie?” Her mother leaned forward, blinking, voice soft and hesitant.

“Mom, I’m fine—ecstatic. Aren’t we, George?” He nodded and they rocked side to side in unison.

“I need another drink.” His father raised an open palm. “No, I’ll fix it myself. Haven’t a clue what you’re talking about.”

“Dad,” George said, his voice subdued. “We’re having a baby.”

His father’s brows shot heavenward. “Why didn’t you say so in plain English?” Empty glass in hand, he hugged his son and placed a resounding smooch on his daughter-in-law’s forehead. “Do the boys know? Bet they’re excited.”

“You’re the first to know.” George said. “I only found out an hour ago.” He suppressed a smile in his wife’s hair.

Both grandmothers shook their heads and heaved themselves off the sofa to join the hugathon. “So, it’s like starting all over again,” said her mother to Grandma Miller.

George’s deaf step-father scrambled out of the chair and raised his glass. “What are we celebrating?”

“We have a bun in the oven,” his wife shouted in his ear over the melee.

“We do? Take it out before it burns.”

They all roared with laughter. He joined in too though he still appeared confused.


© 2015 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles. All Rights Reserved.


Author: Let's CUT the Crap!

I'm getting a little LONG in the tooth and have things to say about---ouch---AGEing. I believe it's certainly a state of mind but sometimes it's nice to hear that you're NORMAL. I enjoy reading by the truckload. I'm a grandma but I don't feel OLD although I'm not so young anymore. My plan is to stick it out as long as I can on this lovely planet and only will leave it kicking and screaming!

55 thoughts on “#BlogBattle Week 9

  1. A bun in the oven–such a funny expression. I wonder what its origin is. Maybe I’ll Google it tomorrow. Too tired tonight.

    Fun piece, Tess. 🙂


  2. Oh, I love that. I thought she was going to make buns. I read this post-apoclyptic novel once where all societies problems were solved by baking buns and handing them out. Being an American I said, “what the heck are buns?” Here in the states a bun is something you put your hotdog on. Anyway, I love that you used the prompt to announce a baby! Very clever.


    • Thank YOU. In Canada we use the expression in an assortment of ways, but the main part, “bun in the oven” means someone is pregnant. I scratched my head a while about this prompt and think it will be too common an idea. We’ll see.
      Thanks so much for reading and commenting. ❤


  3. Love this one, Tess! I know the expression,”bun in the oven.”Clever, fun way you wrote the dialogue, characters came alive! Christine


  4. Ha! Down South here, we know what buns are! It is interesting – in Canada, recliners are Easy Boys. here in the States, we go all out and they are Lazy Boys – an actual brand name that has become as ubiquitous as Kleenex. As always, so very interesting and you just take a prompt and run with it. And how funny, the hard of hearing part of the conversation. You have such an excellent way with conversations.


  5. Thanks for the comparisons in speech patterns. I like hearing how we Canadians and Americans have do similar things differently.
    I’m pleased the hard of hearing step-father was amusing. I had hoped he would be. If I were pushing 41 and found out I had ‘a bun in the oven’ and twin boys finishing university or college, I believe I’d cry.
    Thank you for your kind words, Kanzen. Your support helps combat the fear of hitting Publish a wee bit. ❤ ❤ ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  6. What a lovely happy ending to the story! I could visualize the entire gathering through your eloquent description and writing Tess. I couldn’t help but smile.


  7. Loved this one! You had me going for a minute. You continue to get better and better Tess.


  8. Tess, you painted those characters so quickly and effectively. A charming group. Huge hugs! 😀


  9. Hahahahaha! An oft used expression here as well! Though I did not see that coming as the reason for the gathering! So formal …..I was being set up! 😉 Well done Tess! 🙂


  10. What a great story, Tess – the excitement of a new baby, the happiness of the expecting parents, the stepfather’s comical misunderstanding because of his hearing! Well-written, charming and sweet – I love it! ❤


  11. Great story Tess and really enjoyed.. as always a masterful short story.. hugs..


  12. Hi Tess hope you are still in a writing mode as I have tagged you in a Freelance writing challenge. If you are too busy no problem but if you can great.. hugs


  13. Very cute! I didn’t see “Bun” at the top when I started reading, and I thought it was going to be something creepy at first that he pulled out of the oven. 🙂 Clever use of the phrase!


  14. Darling story, Tess.
    “… mousy brown hair” — That’s what I’ve always called the natural color of my hair. It’s salt and pepper now.


  15. I wasn’t sure where this was going, but enjoyed where it took me. Excellent and intriguing, thanks again, Tess. 🙂


  16. I am so glad those two parents are excited. Me, 2 grown kids, starting over–yikes! But what are you going to do?


  17. I enjoyed this one a lot 😀


  18. Great writing. Placed me right in the room although no one offered me a drink. Great Job Tess.


  19. I don’t think I could have done as well on this prompt.


  20. Loved this story. Wouldn’t have thought of that at all with the prompt


  21. Clever play on this expression. Loved the grandparents! Great piece, Tess.


  22. I didn’t see that coming, very clever Tess 😄


  23. Always Grandpa with the funnies! Ha, too funny! I love it!!!


  24. Fun use of the prompt … but the deaf grandfather was hilarious …. don’t burn the buns! 😀


  25. Great take on “bun”, Tess. Like others I to thought she was going make a bun – I guess she did anyway, only it was in a different oven to the one we all thought it was going to be.


  26. Great use of the ‘bun’ Tess and I love the interaction you have with the characters.


  27. Oh I just love this! A real bun in the oven, how wonderful! I can hear the laughter from the happy household even now, utterly delightful 😀 ❤ 🙂


  28. I REALLY enjoy your writing style. It is very smooth and rich and makes the reader feel as if these moments are really happening, like the characters could be our very neighbors. Fantastic gift you have. 🙂


  29. Thanks so much. That’s the biggest compliment I have ever received and do feel unworthy, but thank you. I’m still learning and I like to say I still have my training wheels on. You have made my day today. ❤ ❤ ❤


  30. Such a sweet story, and a fun read! Well done. You have a wonderful writing style. 🙂


  31. Thanks so much for your kind words, and I like your style as well. ❤ ❤ ❤ Happy Friday. 😮


  32. Great story!! My oldest and youngest are 10 years apart…had my youngest at 37…so yeah, I can relate to this!! 🙂


  33. Haha! So cute, Tess! I loved the dynamics and the big reveal! ha 🙂


  34. I couldn’t help having her twins graduating university as she realizes she’ll be starting over again. Too much fun to make it easy. ❤


  35. I mean too much fun NOT to make it easy. 🙂


  36. What a clever story and great use of the word ‘bun’. Only you Tess, lol. 🙂


  37. Glad you like this one. I didn’t have a clue what to do with this one for a while. Scratched my head again and again.
    🙂 Thanks so much, Debby. ❤ ❤


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