"I'm a picky eater. I want to have my cinnamon oatmeal now."

"I'll make it for you," Madelyn said as she put down her backpack.

Ethan grabbed Madelyn's hand and said to the old woman, "You're an old servant of the Arnold family, so you should know some manners. Besides, you'll get indigestion by having food this late at night. Marta, send her home."

"Yes, sir," answered Marta.

"Hold on... Marta, do we have grated cinnamon?"

"Yes," Marta replied.

"I don't have a lot of homework today. I'll make some oatmeal for you. It should be ready in about 40 minutes."

Evelyn chuckled and said, "Thank you."

"No worries."

'That's how the elderly are. The older they get, the less they sleep,' she thought.

Madelyn went to the kitchen.

Evelyn sighed, "You and her are like the oatmeal and cinnamon in here. When cooked together, the taste is the same. But if you add or remove something, the taste changes. Think about what I said. Tell her that she doesn't need to make the oatmeal. Madelyn has a