Page 34 of Margo

The thought of the no-longer-allowed phrase made her giggle.

“What are you laughing at, little one?” He held out his hand and took hers before she could come up with an answer that wouldn’t actually involve saying the words and getting herself in trouble. “Tell me on the way down to the kitchen. It’s time for us to get breakfast started.” he said as they stepped into the elevator.

Margo shook her head. She wasn’t about to get in trouble on purpose for something she knew she’d screw up on accident soon enough. “I’m just thinking things I’m not allowed to say, Daddy.”

“Oh. Well, as long as they stay in your head, and don’t come out of your mouth.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Margo answered with a resigned sigh. The truth was her mouth was a ticking time bomb just waiting to happen. Knox might not know it, but she did.

Knox

Margo might hate kitchen duty with the passion of a thousand flaming suns or whatever the cliche was, but he was glad it was her day. Before yesterday, she’d avoided him like the plague and he missed her, so he was happy for the excuse to spend some extra time with her and happier still that it would be as Daddy and Little girl.

“So, what should we make for breakfast?” he asked, tying a frilly apron around her waist.

“Anything that doesn’t require cooking. Or cutting. Or dishes.”

“That’s not a thing. How do you feel about cracking eggs?”

Margo shrugged. “It’s okay I guess. Is that what we are having? Just eggs?”

“I was thinking I could whip up some omelets.”

Margo turned to face him, her nose crinkled. “Omelets? Isn’t that one of those things Daddies make just so they have an excuse to force us to eat vegetables? Vegetables are not a breakfast food.”

“Certain vegetables are very good breakfast foods and amazing in omelets,” he countered, “but I was thinking we could keep it simple and whip up some ham and cheese omelets.”

“I guess that would be okay. What would I hafta do?”

Margo continued to look like she was about to be paraded in front of a firing squad rather than just being asked to help her Daddy cook breakfast. It was humorous and endearing.

“You can crack and whisk eggs, and maybe grate cheese? I’ll chop the ham and do the actual cooking. Little girls shouldn’t play with knives or use hot stoves.” He used the same line on her he had on Mariah with drastically different results. Mariah had argued and been resentful, but Margo looked like he’d just thrown her a life raft right before she drowned.

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “Does that mean if I was your Little girl, I wouldn’t hafta cook?”

“Well, I might ask you to help me in the kitchen every once in a while just so we could have the extra time together, but you’re correct. I don’t want my Little girl using knives or touching hot pans. You’d only be allowed to do things like measure ingredients or crack eggs, grate cheese, things like that. You’d be my Little assistant, but you would not be allowed to cook.”

Margo looked elated. “I could deal with that.”

“Glad to hear it.” Knox beamed at her. “Now get a bowl and crack a dozen eggs into it please.”

He watched as she did so, praising her efforts when she didn’t get any eggshells in the bowl. When she was done, he took the bowl from her, adding salt and pepper and a little bit of milk and whisking the mixture together.

While the pan was heating, he put the eggs back in the fridge and took out cheese and ham. He gave the cheese to Margo and chopped the ham himself.

Margo, whose demeanor was a lot more pleasant now that she knew she didn’t have tons of kitchen duty in her future, got out the grater and quickly shredded the cheese into a bowl. She was taking her job very seriously and concentrating very hard, but she was going too fast.

“Slow down a bit, it’s not a race,” he warned, but it was too late.

“Ouch!” Margo exclaimed. “Cr-”

Knox’s eyebrows shot up. He knew what was coming.

“—ravioli on a criminey bucket.”

Knox burst out laughing. “What? That didn’t even make any sense!”

“I know!” Margo wailed, holding her injured hand. “But I didn’t say anything naughty so I don’t hafta get my mouth washed out with soap.”