French Toast

Author's Note: My group chose to write about french toast today. It was kind of random. But, I like random things.


Mr. Sun greeted me, heating up the blankets on my bed. I finally decided to sit up and stretch. It felt good to reach toward the ceiling. Then I jerked, smelling something delicious. But I then realized it was only in my head. My dad never cooks. He always buys packaged snacks from the store or takes us to a restaurant. (I mean us by my brother Tim and me. My name’s Tilly by the way. Yeah... I noticed that, too. Our names both start with the letter T.)

So I tromped down the stairs and decided to make myself some french toast. Even though I had no experience with cooking other than maybe cereal or Mac & Cheese. Luckily, I have been taking FCE class and am now able to make french toast. The first one I made started smoking and burning. Quickly, I took it off the stove. At least I was smart enough not to know to dump water over the pan- it would only make it worse.

By the fourth batch, I was kind of tired, but it finally turned out right. I grabbed the syrup and dumped it all over the french toast. The sticky syrup slid down my throat. It was so delicious that I kept the other pieces for my dad. Boy, was he surprised!