A Grumpy Investigation

I marched straight into the kitchen because staying in that bedroom was getting ridiculous. Right on the edge of the granite counter sat a plate with cold, leftover pancakes. Ridiculous things, stacked like spongy discs. I crossed my arms, sized them up, and decided they needed a thorough inspection. Climbing up meant stomping across a lumpy dish towel and balancing along a slick metal spoon handle. My massive feet slipped once, but I stubbornly held my ground. I gave the top pancake an annoyed poke with one finger. Solid, slightly sticky, and smelled sweet enough. I leaned my back against the nearby ceramic mug to watch the room, keeping a firm claim on the breakfast.