Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 55: Honey… want a muffin?

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Honey... want a muffin?

The thing about muffins is that there are about as many varieties as there are stars in the night sky.

But Nate was cutting my supplies more and more with each passing day. So, I had only a limited variety of ingredients to work with.

No bananas, darn him, but yogurt was still something he sent to me. Nice cake flour, for which I was grateful. And then there was the fact that there was vanilla extract and raisins.

But I had Mordred! Whom I sent to buy a single bar of chocolate. He agreed, of course... after I told him he’ll get the first batch all to himself.

Honestly, that kid was going to end up fat.

"Ok, Mordred, now we place the yogurt with the baking soda in a bowl," children liked to guilt-trip their parents that said parents hadn’t shown them anything. Mordred had made that mistake already.

I knew he was about one more instruction away from running and starting a war. His eyes were almost closed.

"Would you like to do it?" I asked him.

I didn’t care if Nate ate good muffins or not.

They were going to be muffins made by his son! He was going to be forced to eat them! Otherwise, why was he paying for child support?

I handed Mordred the jar with the yogurt and the measuring spoon, which was tiny. He dumped it all into the wooden bowl and picked up a wooden spoon.

For some reason, he was concentrating!

Could I dare hope that I could install a love for cooking into my son?

"Ok, and now we separate the egg whites from the egg yolks," for which I had picked three big eggs. There was nothing quite like big eggs when one made muffins for gluttons.

It was easier to measure everything. Sad, but true.

Mordred’s red eyes were shining, as he watched me crack open the first two eggs. Then, just as I was preparing to crack open the third egg, he reached out, placing the bowl with the yogurt to the side.

"I want to try," and since I really didn’t care if Nate ended up with food poisoning, I handed the bowls and the third egg to my flesh and blood.

He did it perfectly! Just like I had done it!

He smiled, a single pointy canine poking out of his mouth. I wanted to hug him and proclaim him my heir!

I had never been prouder in all my life!

But I stopped myself. We had muffins to bake. My baby had to be fed.

And his darn bastard of a father too!

So, we could get Aron back.

"Ok, now we whisk the vanilla and the baking powder with the egg whites," I told him, as I dumped both things inside. I began to whisk right in front of him.

"Come on! Try it!" I placed the bowl with the egg whites in his hands and then gave him the whisk.

He began to whisk, his muscular arm making short work of the egg whites.

A tear ran down my cheek.

My baby could bake! Oh, happy day!

"Papa?" He showed me perfect egg whites. With peaks!

"Yes, my heart?" I blurted out.

"This is nice," he told me, as he looked at the egg yolks. "Do those need to be whisked as well?"

I nodded.

"Ok," he took the bowl with the yolks as I began to cut up the chocolate. I didn’t want him to cut himself.

He was the most precious thing in my life!

"Ok, now what?" He asked, as I saw that the yolks were a lovely light-yellow color. The slight remains of the egg whites which Mordred had not cleaned from the whisk had done that, which I would have told him to do regardless: mix in a bit of the whites in the yolks!

"Now we place the whites in the yogurt," I told him, waiting for him to do so.

"A little bit at a time, right?" He asked, as I handed him the spatula.

"Yes," I felt like I had found the meaning of my life.

I watched as my son mixed in the egg whites inside, then as he reached out towards the flour. Soon, he was whisking the flour into the yogurt/egg whites mix.

"The egg yolks now," I told him. "So, if it becomes too watery, you can add more flour."

Oh, sure, using your eye had its risks. But he wanted to try it by himself. To try to decode the song of the ingredients to get to the recipe.

It was a love story as old as time. How could I possibly stop him now?

When he finally found the love for cooking in his heart? A love I shared?

"Right!" Mordred began to slowly mix in the egg yolks. Then he dumped the raisins inside, then some oil.

I was proud when I didn’t so much as wince when his mixture really became too watery.

But then, as he managed to get it to the proper consistency with some flour, I took out the already oiled muffin tin and handed him a spoon.

"No more than one spoonful per tin," I told him because his batter looked no different from what I normally got. I wanted his first real baking session to be a success! "Otherwise, you are going to get muffin monsters!"

I couldn’t help but tease him. I wanted this little moment to never end.

"Muffin monsters, papa?" He asked, as he began to regard placing muffin batter into the little tins so, as if he were doing a blood ritual.

"Yes! The batter is just going to rise out of the nests!" I told him, as I placed my finger on his nose. "And will sprawl out like a monster! The muffin will look all wrong!"

Mordred giggled.

"Man, you are good with the kid," I heard a familiar husky voice whisper to the side.

There they were: Nate and Morty.

"Honey, do you want a muffin?" I asked, as Mordred placed the tin inside the oven. "The second batch will be done in an hour."

Because those were Mordred’s muffins. The first batch was his!

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