My mom hates to cook. She'd rather ride her motorcycle or practice rock climbing. She also spends a lot of time with me. Every morning Mom takes me to school by motorcycle. Occasionally I'll come home to find her scaling(攀爬)the side of the house.
As her daughter, I used to feel embarrassed that my mom was so different. But now________.
It all started with a cooking project. Every student in Mrs. Maitland's home-economics class was supposed to create an original dish, then present it at school the following Tuesday morning. Mom and I spent hours in the kitchen. We tried jelly-filled hot dogs, baked ham with chocolate sauce, and hard-boiled eggs rolled in coconut. We eventually agreed on chocolate cakes with bright green pepper mint frosting. I was satisfied. It beat hot dogs, anyway.
The big day came. Our parents appeared, bringing many tasty dishes. Finally, I saw Mom, empty handed! I met her at the door. "You forgot it, didn't you?"
Mom's eyes opened wide. "I'm sor--" She couldn't finish her apology. A loud alarm cut her off. Mrs. Maitland yelled, "Fire! This is not a drill! Everyone out of the building!"
We all headed for the stairs and gathered at the parking lot. Smoke started to curl out of one of the third-floor windows. Mom held my hand tightly. I forgot about my cake.
Suddenly, we heard a scream. We looked up and found Danny Patterson was trapped in the burning building! Mom disappeared. She grabbed her climbing tools from her motorcycle and walked quickly toward the building.
She scaled the huge pine tree next to the school. At the top, she started to throw her weight back and forth. The tree swung toward the window, and she hopped onto the ledge and into the building.
Mom's ropes flew as she created a harness. She secured one end, and then lowered Danny safely to the ground. Everyone cheered!
Who cares if my mom hates to cook?
