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Children's Stories
by Margo Fallis
Black Treacle Scones


Black Treacle SconesKirstin wanted to surprise her mum and dad by making them black treacle scones. Both were sleeping soundly upstairs. Kirstin put on her slippers and bathrobe and went into the kitchen. She searched for her mumís recipe box. "I found it," she said, after climbing on a chair and reaching on top of the refrigerator. "Now, where are the ingredients? I wonder where Mum keeps the flour?" Kirstin searched the cupboards and found everything she needed for the scones, including the black treacle. The can of treacle was sticky. She took a wet washrag and wiped it off. "Much better."

Finding a big glass bowl, Kirstin dumped the flour in. It fell out with a poof and flew all over her golden hair, her rosy red cheeks and all over her clothes and kitchen countertop. "What a mess Iíve made!" she laughed, seeing her reflection in the toaster. She added the baking soda and salt, which poured out quickly. Instead of adding half a teaspoon, she added half a cup. "Oops," she smiled. "I suppose a little extra salt wonít hurt. I know Dad likes salt on his fish and chips." She continued adding the spices Ė cinnamon, allspice, cloves, nutmeg, and ginger Ė and then she took the butter out of the cupboard. "I wonder how much a cup of butter is?" She looked at the sticks, not realizing it said on the wrappers. "I suppose two will do." She peeled the paper off and tossed them into the bowl.

Just then her kitten, Scruffy, came into the room Meow. "Hi, Scruffy. Iím making treacle scones for Mum and Dad. Do you want to help?" she asked, reaching down and petting the kitten. Since her hands were sticky with treacle, the kittenís hair stuck to them. "Iím about to add the treacle now." She put Scruffy on the counter near her. "Here I go," she said and poured the black treacle into the bowl with the rest of the ingredients. The whole can of black syrup ran into the bowl. "Oops, again. I think I wasnít supposed to put that much in, but I know Mum loves treacle, so it doesnít matter," she said to the kitten.

"Do you think I need milk?" she asked. She took the bottle of milk out of the refrigerator. Cat hair and treacle stuck to it. After pouring some into the bowl she set the glass bottle down. Scruffy ran over and licked the treacle and spilt milk off the sides of it. "Now, you sit still while I stir it." She took a big wooden spoon and stirred all the ingredients together. It sloshed over the side of the bowl onto the counter and floor. Scruffy was right behind her licking it up.

"Where is the baking pan?" she asked the kitten. "I think Mum keeps them under the stove. Ah, hereís one," she said, reaching for it. The clean, white stove and oven was now covered with brown sticky spots. Kirstin set the temperature to the right spot and poured the dough onto the baking sheet. She forgot to butter it first.

"Here we go," she said, opening the hot oven and putting the pan inside. "Treacle scones take fifteen minutes," she told Scruffy. "I think Iíd better wash my hands."

She forgot about the time because when she was washing her hands she started playing with the soap. A burning smell reminded her of the scones. She turned the oven off first and pulled the pan out, using hot pads, just like her mum had taught her. She put the pan on the counter. "Hmmm, these scones look rather black. Do you think itís because of the treacle, Scruffy? Treacle is black. You donít think they are burned, do you?" She smiled at her cat, who at that moment shook its head back and forth as if saying no. "I donít either."

Kirstin took two scones and put them on a plate. "This is for Dad," she said. "These are for Mum," she added, putting two more on another plate. "Letís see, theyíll need jam and butter. She scooped a big spoonful of black currant jam onto each plate and smothered the scones with butter, which melted and ran onto the plate, mixing with the jam

"Mum and Dad are going to be so proud of me. I fixed them scones," she giggled to Scruffy. Meow.

"Mum. Dad. Wake up. Iíve made breakfast for you," Kirstin said, walking into their room with a tray.

They woke up and looked at Kirstin. She was covered in flour and had bits of butter and treacle in her hair. Trying not to laugh, her mum said, "How lovely, darling." When Kirstin placed the tray down on the bed and her parents saw the scones, they looked at each other.

"I made you black treacle scones, Mum. Theyíre black because of the treacle," she explained.

Her dad looked at the scones. He could see kitten hairs all over them and could tell they were burned hard as a rock. "They look delicious, Kirstin. Would you be a love and run down and bring us up some orange juice?" he asked.

Kirstin ran down to the kitchen. While she was gone her mum and dad took the scones and tossed them out of the window. When Kirstin came back up and saw the empty plates, she said, "Mum? Dad? You ate the scones all ready?"

"They were lovely," her mum said. "Weíre so full. Thanks love. Weíll just finish our orange juice now, thank you."

"I can get you some more. I made a lot of them," she told them.

"Thatís fine, Kirstin. Neither of us could eat another bite," her Dad said. "Why donít you take the tray and go downstairs. Weíll finish our orange juice and be right down."

Kirstin smiled and took the tray downstairs. Her dad looked out the window. "Come and look," he called to Kirstinís mum. "The kitten is eating the scones, or trying to," he said. Both of them started laughing.

When they went downstairs, Kirstin was busy scrubbing up the mess sheíd made. Her mum had to put her hand over her mouth so as not to laugh. The kitchen was a mess, but they snuck back upstairs and let her clean it up. She was so happy and so proud that sheíd fixed them a meal. So was Scruffy.


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