A day of learning / Creative Nonfiction Prompt #37

There I was, sitting at the kitchen table, waiting for my breakfast, it was maybe 8 or 9 in the morning, it was Saturday, so grandma was not in a hurry to cook; my stomach was not aware of what day it was, and growled like a dog, about to attack; in fact, it was hunger that made me wake up so early that day.

At that moment, I didn't understand "What was the difference between a Monday and a Saturday?", What I was sure of was that I was very hungry.

— Grandma, what are you making for breakfast? —

Just as Grandma was about to answer, there was a knock at the door.

—Inesita, go and see who it is,—said Grandma, pointing her mouth towards the door.

With little desire, I got up and went to the door; when I opened it, I saw that it was Mrs. Lola, our neighbor from across the street.

—Hello Inesita, you got up early today,— she said, while she ruffled my hair, without letting me speak, she went straight to the kitchen.

—Good morning, Francisca,— she greeted grandma, took a chair and sat down, I sat down too.

—Good morning, Lola, you're up early!—.

—I have something to tell you, did you know that Luis and Ana couldn't settle their differences and that woman took her things and left the house?—

— Who are they? — asked the grandmother, raising her eyebrows.

—Those who recently moved to Perez's house,— answered Lola.

—Let me tell you, no, I knew their names—.

—You never know anything, Francisca,— said Lola, with a puzzled face.

—Unlike you, I don't keep an eye on life, on the neighbors, I have a lot to do at home,— answered the grandmother, with a frown on her face.

—Don't bother, give me a cup of coffee, so we can chat for a while—.

—Not yet, I've strained the coffee, and this is not the time for chatting—.

— I see you are not in a good mood, I'd better visit you later—Saying this, Lola got up and left.

I was happy, because my grandmother would finally finish cooking breakfast, I could appease the fierce feeling I had in my stomach, I was almost fainting.

I was almost faint with hunger.

—Inésita, I think it's time for you to learn how to make coffee—.

I wanted to shout at her that I didn't want to learn, I was just hungry, but with scolded dog eyes; but, to save myself from grandma's sermon, I shrugged my shoulders and nodded.

Grandma, explained to me, the amount of water the pot should take, and said:

—First you add the sugar, wait a moment and then add the coffee powder—.

— What difference does it make, adding the sugar first? - I asked.

—That the sugar will dissolve better—, she answered patiently.

She explained to me that when the water starts to boil, she will lower the lama to the stove, to which I told her:

—What difference does it make to lower the flame, it is better to let it boil at high flame, so that it is faster—.

—If that's what you think, let's leave the flame high—.

The water boiled so hard that it looked like lava. In a volcano about to erupt, the coffee spilled all over the kitchen, until it reached the floor.

—See, that's the difference,— said Grandma, pointing to the floor, —Now, clean that up—.

I looked for a rag and started to clean up. The noises my stomach was making didn't let me concentrate, but I finished quickly, so grandma could continue making breakfast.

She repeated the whole process and strained the coffee, poured herself a cup and put it on the counter, looked in the cabinet for a package of flour, from the fridge, took out some eggs, then asked me:

—Do you want to learn how to make arepas?—

A "nooo, I let out inside", but I looked at her and smiling, I told her:

—Today you make the arepas, grandma, another day I'll make them—.

Then, she took a deep cup, put some water, a touch of salt and the corn flour.

—Grandma, the arepas are different if you put the water before the flour—.

—Yes, there is a big difference, if you add the water first, you will get a soft dough; but if you add the flour first, your dough will be hard and rough,— said grandma, while kneading, "Do you want to make your arepa?

Of course, I told her I didn't want to; at another time, I would have been happy to make my arepa, but at that moment, it wasn't me who was thinking, it was my stomach who was directing my actions.

A while later, grandma served me my breakfast, finally, I would satiate my hunger, my stomach stopped growling and I regained control of my senses.

Since that day, I never woke up early on Saturday. From that bad experience, I found that there was a difference. On weekdays, when I got up, my breakfast was on the table, but on the weekend, there was no hurry to do it.