Day 7: Recipe book
Summary: After obtaining Dolley's recipe book, Tristan tries to make something out of it, this proves difficult with a husband in little space who is eager to help.
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"Four eggs.." Tristan mumbled to himself reading over the recipe from the book his grandmother passed down to him finally. It was comprised of recipes from both Dolley and Antonio, destined to go to their grandchild when they were getting older.
"Ollie get dem daddy!!" an eager voice chirped.
Tristan sighed hearing the fridge indeed open, looking over his shoulder. He never minded when Oliver slipped, it suited vise versa too, but it did prove difficult to cook with a mentally aged 3 year old running around.
"Ok, little love, just be careful, please," he called pleadingly looking back to his book. He'd initially tried to get Oliver to color at the table but very shortly into seeing what Tristan was doing did the little one decide he want to help his daddy. Oliver dashed back with all the required eggs, surprisingly unscathed.
"Thank you baby boy, remember though, no running in the house, ok? We don't want a boo boo," Oliver bobbed his head along though Tristan doubted he was really listening. All well, a little patience was all that was required. He hummed adding them to the sauce, then sprinkled the cheese. Oliver watched with twinkling eyes.
"Ollie do it?" he mumbled, the purple haired boy shook his head.
"No, I'm about done with it. This is the last thing before we just let it cook."
"It taste wike 'pagsetti?"
"No," Tristan shook his head with a chuckle sparing a hand to tickle his side making Oliver squeak and giggle, "just because it had spaghetti sauce doesn't mean it'll taste like it... it's called eggs in purgatory..."
Oliver scrunched his nose with another giggle at the name.
"Cause dey 'tuck daddy!!" the little spaced blonde pointed to the eggs. Tristan nodded in agreement, kissing the top of his head.
"My smart little one."
Oliver swooned at this, laying his head against his shoulder, watching the eggs sizzle to match the temperature of the sauce, spinach, garlic, and other odds and ins, "Daddy?"
Tristan gently hummed.
"You such good cook," Tristan chuckled knowing he hadn't even tried the food yet, but all the same it melted his heart.
"Thank you," he murmured, "it wouldn't he nearly as good if not for my little helper."
