Emma stood stirring the apples in the pot while her mother peeled them. Emma didn't want to be stuck inside making applesauce and apple cobbler, although the food was good. She didn't think that one night of good food was worth all the stirring and peeling, stirring and peeling. Emma's mother did, though.
"Emma, I'll be right back. If there's anything, I'll be upstairs looking for that old wooden spoon. It stirs much better," Emma's mom said."Just holler if you need me." Emma nodded absent-mindedly. She stared out the glass window at the snow. It was cold, but Emma longed to be outside anyway. Her mother had said when she asked, "There is absolutely now way you can go outside in this weather. We have to make a nice dinner for your father and brother. Don't even think about sneaking out, either. You'll catch a cold." But as Emma stood in the kitchen alone, she knew that she could sneak outside and be back in before her mother could find the spoon. That spoon had been lost for ages, and it was unlikely her mother would find it. Her mother was also an independant person who never gave up, and she would sit upstairs for an hour looking for that spoon.
Emma peered up the creaky wooden stairs and saw no sign of her mother. She crept slowly to the door and went outside where the snow was softly falling.