Jane's mother walked to the bathroom door and knocked.
"Jane Quinlan, what's wrong with you?"
"Mom, I'm overly hungry, got hit by the aroma.
I'm going to use the restroom first.
When is the soup going to be ready? Serve me a bowl, will you?"
Jane's mother shook her head: "You child, not eating properly when it's time for meals, now you're in a rush.
The soup just started simmering, it's all fishy smell, that would only make you feel nauseous, wouldn't it?
You, after a while, just eat something light to tide you over.
The soup won't be ready until evening."
Jane Quinlan came out of the restroom: "What kind of luck is this, can't even enjoy soup when I want to."
Grumbling, she followed her mom into the kitchen and took leftovers from lunch to eat.
Jane's mother wanted to heat it for her, but she wasn't that delicate.
She went straight to the table ready to eat.
