By Heather Trent Beers
Beaver woke up and stomped downstairs. “I’m hungry! I want breakfast now.”
Mother Beaver raised her eyebrows. “Sit and be patient, please.”
“Hmmph.” Beaver said. “What are we having?”
“Omelettes.”
Beaver scowled.
Mother put eggs, cheese, mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes on the table. She chop-chop-chopped the onions.
Beaver stood in his chair. “I don’t like onions!”
“Oh, my,” Mother said. She chopped the tomatoes.
Beaver stomped. “I don’t want tomatoes!”
“That certainly is a problem,” Mother said. “Whatever will you do about that?”
“Hmmph.” Beaver plopped in his chair.
Mother sealed the extra tomatoes and onions in two zip-top plastic bags and put them in the refrigerator.
