The Feast

One morning a father came down from his cave after a good sleep. He felt a bit hungry and investigated the fridge to see what was there. He found that there was a packet of bacon and some eggs. His young daughter volunteered (Sort of) to make the bacon and shortly she started to prepare a feast. As the father had things to do and places to see he retired to the study to look over his Mac whilst the littlest child played quietly with his Lego.

After what felt like a month the feast was delivered. Sumptuous bacon served with gently turned over eggs. His daughter also had a plate of steaming food and soon they tucked into the feast. After a good burp or two at the end of the meal the father went out to see what he could see. As he deposited his plate in the kitchen his youngest asked “Whats for breakfast dad?” with large sad eyes whilst the sun gently lit his golden hair like an angel. The father asked “Did your sister not give you any food?” whilst slowly moving his plate out of sight. “Food”, “What food” was the question. “Hmmmmmm” murmured the father whilst opening the oven to investigate the possibility of any remaining bacon. Nope! She had, as usual, forgotten about the poor little soul.

What could he do. It was all eaten. With visions of jail time for child abuse floating through his thoughts, he hastily threw together some eggs and fed the child as best he could making a note to check that the youngest got his share of the food in future. The eldest child had struck again. Selfishness ruled and the prospect of a new pair of jeans faded away.