“Max-the-Chef,” Friend, Sept. 1998, 30
Max-the-Chef
Early one morning, four-year-old Max was awakened by his growling stomach. Everyone else was still sleeping.
He jumped out of bed and went quietly to the kitchen.
“I’m going to make my very own breakfast,” he said in a low voice so he wouldn’t wake anyone up.
“I think I will make myself some eggs.” He got out the frying pan, then thought, That sure sounds good, but I’m not allowed to use the stove by myself. So he put away the frying pan.
“I know—I’ll make some brown-sugar oatmeal.” But when he looked at the kettle, he remembered that he wasn’t allowed to touch it. Sometimes it had very hot water in it, and he might burn himself.
“I guess I’ll make some toast.” He got out the bread and reached for the toaster before he remembered that he wasn’t to use the toaster by himself. So he put the bread away.
Max was getting very hungry by now. But he didn’t want to wake up anybody, and he still wanted to make his own breakfast.
He had an idea. He got out the pita bread, a spoon, the peanut-butter jar, and a banana. He carefully spooned some peanut butter into the pita-bread pocket. He peeled the banana, broke it in half, and tucked one half into the pocket too. There it was, a pita surprise!
He went to the fridge and got out the milk. He was just pouring it carefully into a glass, when his mom came into the kitchen. “That looks really good!” she said. “Is this for me?”
“Uh—sure, Mom.”
Mom picked up the pita surprise from Max’s plate and took a bite. Then she took his glass of milk, drank some, and said, “This is good! You’re a sweetheart to have made my breakfast this morning. Thank you very much!”
“You’re welcome, Mom.” Max hurried to make himself another pita surprise.
Now on weekends, before Mom goes to bed, she puts out on the table the pita bread, a spoon, different spreads, and some fruit. Max-the-chef is in charge of making everyone a pita surprise for breakfast.