There was the four of us.

Staying in the kitchen, talking about each other's day,

complimanting each other's outfits, dancing, jumping from excitement and laughing
because of our little brother's hair. When we finally settled down from all the
eternal joy around us, we started to bake a cake for our mother. We didn't even
had the slightiest knowledge of the art of baking but we tried it anyway. I throw
on the filthy kicthen table all the ingredients and my big brother took a cooking-
book from the infinte bookshelf.
While I was opening the book to the right page, our little brother opened the
flour pacakge letting all the white powder free all over the room. His bright
golden hair became white and sparkling like the snow, calling him now our tiny
autumn snowman. We didn't mind the mess, we actually enjoyed it. We needed someone
like him to remind us that being childish is normal and esencial for the human
kind. The middle brother carefully opened the sprinkle bag, but his mission failed
as the sound of the flour package scared him. Now snow with colourful bits of candy
were everywhere on the floor. Again we didn't mind it and continue to bake with all
of our soul.
Being the girl between three boys meant that I was responsible for all of them so
the complicated parts were let aside for me. They were fully aware of this and
never complained about it. I took the big bowl with cream and put it on the cake-
form.