This story was inspired by Ana Linden‘s blog. It’s a short story about parenthood, compassion, and love where a father goes about his daily morning ritual.
He kissed his wife on the cheek as she snored. He slipped slowly and quietly off the bed, but the wood floor creaked beneath his weight. He peered back at his wife, who let out a heavy snore so he continued to the bathroom.
He did as he had done every day for ten years. He brushed his teeth, pulled up his slacks, buttoned his shirt, put on some thick socks, then brushed what little hair remained on his head.
Before heading down stairs he checked on the twins.
Zooey and Suzie’s room had a split personality. Half the room was bright purple and the other half was black. Susie had painted butterflies on her side while Zooey painted star constellations.
Zooey’s black bangs covered her forehead. He gently swiped them aside to kiss her, meanwhile Suzie had half her body dangling off the bed.
Even in her sleep she was constantly moving, he thought to himself, just like her mother. He moved her back on the bed then ran his fingers through her wavy, slightly tangled brown hair.
Once downstairs he fried five scrambled eggs, cooked three hot dogs, then opened a can of beans. He used a potato masher to mash the beans into a smooth mixture then he chopped up the hotdogs and threw them in with the beans. He grabbed a jar of pickled peppers from the fridge and poured some of its juice into the beans, but not too much since Zooey hated spicy food. He gobbled up a plate then saved the rest for the girls.