Growing up, Saturday night suppers consisted of homemade pizza and a bottle of soda. It was a real treat. We were not allowed to have that stuff during the week. Don’t ask me why not because I truly do not know.
Do you remember those soda bottles that if you took the empty ones back to the store, you got credit or a refund? Anyway, when it came time to divide a bottle between two of us, we ended up arguing. (There were eight of us.) She has a smidgen more than me. No, I don’t! Back and forth it went.
Poor Mom! She probably dreaded every Saturday supper time. Mom rarely showed anger towards us. Her thing was just giving us that certain look. You know the one, if you don’t stop it, Dad will come in there. Her “look” could kill. When she did get angry, you’d better watch out! Run for the hills and hang onto your tail. ‘Cause it’s gonna hurt.
I think back on those Saturday evening supper times and think wow! The suffering I caused Mom. Just because she/he had a tiny bit of soda more than me. I am sorry, Mom, for being a jealous child.
Yes, of course, there were other times that my sisters and brothers argued,too. It was natural, I guess.
Outside the family, away from home, we always stood together. We always watched out for one another.
At home, it seemed that we were divided. I guess we were comfortable being ourselves.