[Prompt from http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/ .]
Jason walked into the kitchen, fully intended on satisfying the lion in his stomach with some pizza rolls and a turkey and cheese sandwich. When he walked through the threshold he found to his dismay that he would have to wait even longer for his food. The kitchen counter was an absolute mess.
There was melted white, brown, and blue lice cream on every inch of the granite top, specks of color dotting the surface, making something not unlike a kid’s art collage. His mother was there, wet rag in tow, scrubbing away.
“It looks like a unicorn threw up in here.”
She looked up from her work and gave him a death glare. “You hush. Christine wanted to make me an ice cream Sunday and was a little over zealous with the sprinkles.”