408 7.32 – Cooking Ghost Food With Stinky Bun – War Of The Wickeds
Ying Xiong tried to open his strawberry yoghurt, “Mommy?” Stinky Bun will open it for mommy, ok?
“No, no, no,” Dai An pointed at the plastic fruits and plastic vegetables in between the real ones, “Mommy wants these.”
Ying Xiong’s eyes were too focused on his yoghurt. Mommy’s wishes went through his ears straight into a trash bin in his little head, “Mommy, mommy.” We can eat Stinky Bun’s yoghurt together.
“...” Dao An shook her head, “Mommy’s tummy can’t hold any real food, see?” She pointed at her see-through stomach, “It can only eat ghost food now.”
His gaze finally looked up at his mommy, “Mommy?” Ghost food?
Dai An nodded her head, “You can make it with these,” she pointed at the plastic food again.
Nodding his head reluctantly, Ying Xiong placed his yoghurt back, then took out a fake tomato and a fake carrot. His hands were getting full, and each new item he piled on his arms would drop on the floor. Oh, right! He threw the ingredients back into a fridge and ran to grab a pot out of his bottom shelves, placing it on top of his stove.
When he walked back to his fridge, he passed by her body. He threw some fruits and vegetables which he dropped a while ago into his pot, then passed through her body again.
“...” Dai An watched how the boy jumped through her body back and forth without a sign of stopping.
.....
Ying Xiong became so distracted by the new activity that he totally forgot about cooking a meal to save his mommy.
Dropping to the floor, Dai An’s body began to fade slowly with her words, “Stinky Bun, you need to hurry, mommy is getting very sick.”
Ying Xiong stopped jumping and quickly placed his palm on her forehead as if trying to heal her with some non-existent healing spell. He proved that he never met a regular, modern-day doctor, just a beast of a father, who could cure anything with the simplest of touch.
“...” Dai An continued to fade, keeping her pained face, laughing at his silliness inwardly, “Only ghost food can cure me.”
Remembering his main objective, Yong Xiong picked up a scattered apple on the floor and tried to push it into her mouth, “Mommy.” Here.
Dai An took an imaginary bite, then clutched her stomach in pain, “Ouch, ouch. It got too dirty from falling on the floor. Ugh, the dirt is hurting mommy’s tummy.”
Panic finally kicked into his gut. Ying Xiong held the apple with a perplexed expression, not knowing what to do with it, he ran to the sink to wash the apple, then dashed back to her.
Taking another bite, Dai An smiled in wonder, stopping her fading. She didn’t tell him what to do with the dirty apple intentionally, and he found a solution quite fast, “You washed it well. So yummy!”
Ying Xiong tilted his head, licking the dripping apple toy. As she sat up, he placed it against her mouth again, “Mommy, mommy?” Where was it yummy? There was no taste.
“That’s ghost food. Mommy can imagine the taste in my mouth without eating it. Can Stinky Bun do the same?” Dai An took another imaginary bite while assessing the boy’s selective memory.
Ying Xiong took a bite in doubt, his imaginary taste buds working on overdrive until he opened his eyes wide from the vague recollection of the apple’s taste, “Mommy, mommy!” Stinky Bun can do the same!
“Amazing, Stinky Bun can eat ghost food with mommy now!” Dai An clapped her hands overenthusiastically, “Let’s pick up the food on the floor, and decide which cake we should make together. How about a spinach cake?”
Stinky Bun shuddered at the thought of a vegetable cake, shaking his head immediately, “Mommy, mommy.” Did mommy forget? Stinky Bun hates every green-coloured food.
Dai An did a thinking gesture, placing her hand under her chin, “Does Stinky Bun have a better idea?”
Ying Xiong placed his little fist under his chin, copying her gesture, coming up with an idea shortly after he glanced at the apple in his hand, “Mommy, mommy!” Apple pie!
“Ooh, I like that idea! What ingredients do we need for an Apple pie?” Dai An glanced at the sleeping XiaoPu, deciding not to wake him up. What could go wrong with coming up with their own recipe? Imaginary food poisoning at worst.
“Mommy can’t touch anything right now,” she showcased how her hands passed through the pot, “Stinky Bun has to become the main chef today.”
Nodding his head, Ying Xiong imagined the last time he had an apple pie, “Mommy, mommy.” We need apples and...! Placing his apple on the counter, he opened his other drawers with play-doh. His eyebrows furrowed, not knowing whether he should choose a brown or yellow colour. He looked up at mommy for help.
“Mommy doesn’t know. I’m just Stinky Bun’s assistant for today,” changing their roles on the go, Dai An watched how he placed his apple on the tray, patched it up with yellow ‘dough’, then placed it into his mini-oven, “I never saw a chef without an apron.”
Ying Xiong glanced at his black onesie, patting his tummy, thinking how slipping on an apron would require too much effort, “Mommy, mommy.” Stinky Bun doesn’t need an apron. Aprons are for the weak.
“...” Dai An didn’t have to guess twice from whom he learned that little ego. Not feeling like getting into an argument, she sniffed the air and scrunched her nose, “Chef, I smell something burnt.”
Ying Xiong turned around on the spot, trying to sniff something suspicious, “Mommy?” Where?
“I think it’s your apple pie, chef.”
Ying Xiong hurriedly opened his oven to check his pie even though he smelled nothing burnt, “Mommy, mommy!” Liar mommy. His pie was perfectly fine!
Before he could do anything rash, Dai An called out loudly, “Put on your gloves, chef! It’s HOT!”
Ying Xiong was about to grab his tray with his bare hand, “Mommy? Mommy.” Why? It was not real anyway.
“HOT! Chief, be careful, it’s HOT! HOT! HOT!”
Ying Xiong turned around to glare at his annoying ‘assistant’, “Mommy, mommy!” It’s safe! He touched the tray to show her he was all well and healthy. See?
“HOT! HOT!” Dai An crossed her arms with a rebellious attitude, refusing to back down, “The GHOST apple pie is really HOT!”
“-!” Understanding the assignment, Ying Xiong quickly went to put on his mini kitchen gloves. He had yet to realize that it wasn’t about whether the oven was hot or not, but about how he could turn unreal things into ‘real’ things with just his imagination. He took out the tray and placed it before her, blowing at his apple covered in play-doh a few times to cool it down.
“Mm, thank you! It smells so good,” Dai An grinned at the little boy, who agreed with her as he took in the imaginary aroma of a freshly baked Apple Pie, gulping down his piling saliva.