Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked bread usually soothed Eleanor. Today, however, it churned her stomach. Her son, eight-year-old Leo, had completely taken over the kitchen. He'd woken her at 5 AM with a request to proof his sourdough starter. She'd tried to gently dissuade him, mumbling something about the early hour, but his lower lip had trembled, and she’d caved. Now, flour dusted every surface, and Leo, wielding a rolling pin twice his size, declared he was making a "boule of legendary proportions." She found herself retreating to the living room, a space previously reserved for her own quiet moments, the hum of the stand mixer a constant reminder of the world she now inhabited.