Breakfast With Mom
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Breakfast With Mom free porn video
Breakfast with Mom
I woke up. The sun was shining in my window and I was hungry, but it was
comfortable under my covers and it was vacation time, no school, so it
felt good just to stay in bed for awhile.
Dad came in my room and picked me up, ruffled my hair like he always
does. It was time for him to go to work.
"Good morning, tiger!" he said. "There's a pop tart and juice waiting for
you on the kitchen table. I gotta go now, but I'll pick up some chicken
and we can eat together this evening, okay?"
"Sure thing, Dad," I said. "See you then."
So off he went.
I am hungry but I do not want to have pop tarts. I am sick and tired of
pop tarts. Mom always made a hot breakfast for us, but not any more, and
dad is a lousy cook.
I waited a minute, then got up and quietly went into their bedroom.
Mom was asleep.
She sleeps a lot these days; she is really sick, and the sickness plus
whatever they give her to fight that sickness all make her hurt a lot, so
then they give her these pills so she won't hurt so much but then all she
wants to do is sleep.
I look at her vanity. There was her hair, sitting on a white head with no
face. Not really her hair but it looked just like it, same color and
style, I always thought it was so pretty. But her sickness made her lose
her hair so now she has this instead.
I look on the other side of the vanity. There are her breasts, sitting
like fried eggs upside down in their plastic holders. Not really her
breasts, either; her sickness made her lose her real breasts so she got
these things instead. When I first saw them they scared me, they looked
like living things, like animals waiting to pounce, they shivered and
jiggled and were flesh colored, it was scary. But Mom explained to me
about how they worked, and showed me that they wouldn't hurt anybody, and
she showed me how they fit into the side pockets of her new bras and then
she looks like she still has her old breasts again. Just like when she
wears he wig it looks like she has her old hair again.
I quietly walk over to her vanity; she stays sound asleep. I take down
the hair, and put it on my own head. I look in the mirror.
I look silly, like a person with nice hair and a normal sized head
suddenly shrank while the hair stayed the same. I try moving the wig
around, pushing it back to show more of my face, but it doesn't help
much.
Maybe if I used some of the color that Mom put on her own face, maybe
that would make the face under this hair look better?
So I hunt around on her vanity and there is a lipstick. I know how this
works, I have seen her use it. You slide off the cap, and then twist the
bottom of it and up comes the colored part. Not too high up, though,
because I do not want to break it off. I am afraid of damaging it.
Carefully, looking in the vanity mirror, I slide the lipstick around
until my lips are pretty well covered. Then I slide the lipstick back
where it goes, and look at myself. Yuk ! It is all messy. There are some
tissues on the vanity, so I use some and carefully go dabbing around my
mouth until it begins to look the right shape again.
Now, Mom usually had some pink color she put on her cheeks. Where is it?
I do not see it on the vanity. But there is a flat plastic case with a
clear lid, and in there are some squares of color, with brushes. Could I
put that on my cheeks? No! These are blue and purple and green, which
would look silly!
That must be what she puts on her eyes. Okay. I open up the case and take
a brush and wipe it around on some of the purple color. It looks like the
flower Mom got for our table, grape hyacinth it's called, but you can't
eat it, it tastes yukky. Mom used to eat with us at the table there but
not hardly so much any more.
I am hungry, but not ready to go eat yet.
I use the brush and wipe it onto one eyelid, brushing it all over. Then I
start on the other side but the brush runs out of color so I have to load
it up again.
There, I am finished. I look in the mirror.
Oh no, just like the lips, there is purple everywhere, on my nose, on my
eyebrows, way off on the sides of my face too. I have to use more tissue
to get the color all back in the right place.
I do not see that pink blusher anywhere but that is okay, Mom hardly uses
that at breakfast time anyway, she just puts it on before she goes out
the door.
So now I look in the mirror again, and the face looks okay. You do not
notice its small size, now that the colors are there. I push the wig back
a little and wiggle it around. Yes, not bad.
Now for the next part. Over in the corner is the clothes hamper. I open
it up; it smells like lavender, because of a sachet Mom hangs in there.
On top is one of her new bras.
I take it out and slip it on; it is already hooked together in back, she
must have just taken it off like that. Good thing, because I am not sure
I could handle all those hooks.
It is way too big for me! It slides around all over the place, falling
off first one shoulder and then the other. I look at the straps; they
have little slides on them that I can move and make the straps shorter,
so I make them as short as I can. That helps the bra not fall off, but it
is still way too big in back. I take it off and go hunting for the button
box. There it is, by the sewing machine. Inside are buttons, but also
pins and needles. I find a big safety pin and use it to bunch up the back
of the bra so the sides are closer together. Of course I poke my thumb a
few times, I always do, but now it fits perfectly. All this messing
around with the bra has scooched my hair out of place, so I fix that, and
then take one of the breasts from its holder.
I slide it into the side pocket of the bra, the way I saw Mom do. Oh no,
how silly! I had put it is backwards, so that the lumpy part is against
my chest and the flat part is facing outwards. How silly I look! I almost
laugh out loud, but I do not want to wake up Mom. So I flip the thing
around and now it looks fine, very real. At first it felt a little chilly
but now it feels warm. When I pat the outside, and can feel it on my
chest, too. Then I put the other breast in the other side, and wiggle
them around in there until they look and feel just like they should. I
hold my arms out to the side and wiggle around, first one way and then
the other, and they move around just fine.
Now for a top. Back to the hamper; I do not want to rummage around in her
dresser. It would make a mess, and it might be noisy and wake her up.
Yes, there it is, a pretty green knit top, very stretchy. I do not know
what it is made out of, but it hugs me when I put it on. It is light
green, with dark green around the neck and sleeves. I tug it down in
place and smooth it out. Great! This is the first thing that has not
looked to big on me, maybe because it hugs itself to my shape. I does
show off Mom's chest really well too.
Now for some matching pants. They would probably be in the hamper,
because she always wears clothes that match in color. Sure enough, there
are some pants that are the color of green peas. Mom calls them her clam
diggers but none of us ever dig clams so I am not sure what that is
about. Anyway, I tug them on. Whoa, they are way too long! On her they do
not come far down below her knees, but on me that fall all the way down
past my ankles to the floor. Hmm. I had better untie this bow on the
front of the waist. I can untie knots, especially a bow like this, but I
cannot tie a knot. All I can make is a granny knot, but that will have to
do.
So now I pull the pants up as high as they will go, and tug on the
little rope things at the waist and make a new knot with them, first
twisting them around each other, tugging them extra tight again, and then
twisting them one more time. Yep, it is a granny knot just as I expected.
Oh well, it will have to do.
Now I look silly again because the waist of the pants is bumping right up
against my bra. But I just pull out the bottom part of my top and smooth
it over the waist area of the pants and now you could never tell that
there was anything different with the pants at all. They look almost the
right length, and the top looks pretty too.
I notice that my hair is out of place again, from putting on the top, so
I use Mom's hair brush and smooth it out and fluff it up and shape it,
tugging it back from my forehead again.
That is the best I can do, and it is really not too bad. I look at myself
in the mirror and say "Hello! I am Mrs. Mary Miller." The face in the
mirror says the same thing back to me, and nods her head as if to say
yes, that is definitely who she is.
I go quietly to the kitchen. There is the pop tart on the table, looking
cold and boring. I want a hot breakfast.
I do not know how to cook eggs or bacon, but I can make toast. You have
to be careful not to get burnt. I get a plate and table knife out of the
dish drainer, and a tub of butter from the fridge. I get down the loaf of
bread and untwist the ties at the end. Two pieces, into the toaster they
go. I pull the handle. Good! It is working, I see the orange glow and
hear the clicking of the machinery. I tie up the bag of bread again, so
it will not get all dry and old.
So now I hunt around and find a box of instant oatmeal. I get a bowl and
spoon from the drainer and put them on the table. I get out a packet of
oatmeal, tear it open and pour it into the bowl. Mmm, it smells
cinnamon-y.
Now for the hot water to cook it with. You can't use just the hot water
from the sink because it is not hot enough to cook with. But you can get
hot water from the coffee maker machine, that uses the little cups. Just
do not put in a cup, but still lift up and lower the handle, and the hot
water will pour right out. I could put the bowl of oatmeal under it where
the coffee cups go but there might be too much water come out and it
would slop over the bowl and make a mess. So I find a big coffee cup; I
will fill it up and pout from it into my bowl.
Pop! The toast is ready. I carefully get it out; oh it is nice and hot.
Toasty! I put the pieces on my plate and try to butter them. The butter
is supposed to be spreadable but it is still cold from being in the
fridge so it kind of sticks and has to be prodded and smooshed around
until the bread is covered. The hot toast helps warm up the butter so it
starts to spread better. I look at my work; what a mess! Crumbs and
butter all over the place. I use my plate to catch what I sweep up from
around it, using a napkin. At least I got the bread all covered. I
giggle; it is just like the lipstick and eye shadow, they made a mess too
but still ending up doing their job.
Now for the hot water. The cup is in place, so I push the big buttons,
the ones that turn blue when the machine is ready to make coffee. They
are not blue now, and nothing happens. Hmm. I look at the controls, and
there is a large-ish button just above those other ones so I push it.
Yes! The machine begins to slurp and growl inside. Now the blue lights
come on. I lift the handle in front and then lower it again. Hot water
comes out! Plenty of it, but not too terribly much. I carefully carry the
cup to the table and pour some of it out on my cereal. I slop some but it
does not get on my toast; I will wipe it up later.
Stir up that cereal, oh it does smell good, and we are all ready to go.
"Eat it while it's hot, Junior! Get big and strong!" I say in a bright
cheerful voice.
"Thanks Mom," I say in my regular voice. "You're the greatest."
Brandy
- 06.04.2020
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