Like Cinderella

My To-Do List - Number 13: Players Don't Mix with Coca-Cola Well

My To-Do List – Number 13: Players Don't Mix with Coca-Cola Well

My morning began with me falling off the bed and muttering a slew of curse words. I remembered last night vaguely, I passed out and was accidently woken up by Shane. I smiled at the thought and felt my forehead tingle at the memory, what the heck? I shook my head getting rid of any thoughts I had that included Shane and his lips. I sat up and groaned I probably had dishes to do from last night. As I got up and walked over to my closet grabbing a few pairs of clothing. I heard a soft child-like moan and saw the comforter on my bed move. I walked over, a part of me freaking out and pulled down the covers. I sighed seeing Noah in his Toy Story pyjamas and smiled. For a second I thought it was some creepy murderer. My brain is hella imaginative. I draped the comforter over him again and dragged my feet to the washroom with my clothes.

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I stared at the sink in confusion, there were no dishes left in the sink. I was more than sure Darcy wouldn't do them. She was Lady Tremaine, but Lady Tremaine was worse than Darcy, at least I thought she was. I heard padded feet descended the stairs one at a time. "Lexi, I'm hungwee," Noah cried. Noah talked better than most for a four year old but some words he was used to saying were embedded that way and sometimes he talked like a three year old.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked.

Noah placed an index finger on his chin, thinking. "Choco-colate chips Pancakes," he yelled in excitement. Noah had the hardest time saying chocolate, so Dustin taught him to say it slowly. Now that's how he said it.

"All right," I smiled. "So, do you know who washed the dishes last night?"

"Yup," he popped the 'P'. "It was Shane,"

"What?" I asked, horrified.

"I was watching Max and Ruby when Shane came downstairs to wash the dishes,"

"Oh," I started making the batter, my stomach growled in hunger. I heated a pan over the stove and poured a big enough circle.

Dustin shoved me away from the stove. I glared at him. "What the hell?"

"It's my turn, then you'll go all bat shit cray on me, nuh-uh," he gave me a look.

"Okay ..." I shrugged. "Less work for me, but I mean I totally forgot it was your turn," I laughed.

"Fuck," Dustin pouted.

I laughed. "Seriously go, I'll make you some it's fine,"

"You sure?"

"Yes! Go! Wait, no, tell me how your date was?" I had a strangest desire for something sweet and sour.

"You first," Dustin said he held a plate in his hands. I flipped a pancake on to his plate and he tried to feed Noah, who fussed about eating on his own because he was a big boy. Dustin gave up and slumped against the fridge, while Noah tucked into his pancake, standing the chair at the breakfast table.

"It wasn't a r-e-a-l date," I rolled my eyes at him spelling the word so Noah wouldn't understand.

"Yeah, sure, you're Instagram picture – if I might add – says otherwise?" he held up his phone. "By the way, nice profile picture," he winked.

"Profile picture?" I muttered, grabbing his phone from his hand I looked at my profile picture. It was one of our silly face pictures. I was wearing Shane's glasses and I was sticking my tongue out at the camera, his glasses set low on the bridge of my nose, while Shane looked at the camera and pouted his lips in a very unflattering look, holding his hands up in a peace sign – the classic chick duckface pose. We laughed right after taking it. It was too funny and I had to remove Shane's glasses.