Hey All, Everyone should spend a little time in the kitchen. There's lots to learn if you keep an open mind and who knows, you may just expand your skill set..............always start with a clean kitchen.
I was in 9th grade the 1st time I was taught how to work in the kitchen. It was around 11 Pm and I had come down to get a glass of water. My mother was sitting in the dark living room, celebrating the another day...............I thought she had gone to bed earlier. The kitchen and diniing rooms were disaster areas.............Mom was on another bender and hadn't cleaned or done much of anything, but drink, for a couple of days. She came up behind me and told me to clean the kitchen and dining rooms.......................dishes, countertops, table and floors. I refused...........I told her I had to go to school in the morning and this would take hours. I started to finish my water when she grabbed a handful of hair from the back of my head and yanked. As I stood staring at the ceiling..................she insured my obedience...............I still wanted that hair she had hold of. I cleaned everything as instructed..........it only took me to 1:45 Am to finish everything she wanted done. The next morning, we 3 boys came down the steps for school......she asked Joe if he had cleaned everything up..............he said no. Tom was next...........he didn't know anything about it. As I was the only one left..........................it must have been me. I was very tired at school the next day.................as with many days that followed the long nights..........I slept in class. It didn't do much for my grades...............not that anyone cared or checked.
In the Autumn of my 10th grade year, the same scenario was repeated................after all, it worked before, why not again? It was late afternoon on yet another sunny , warm day.................Mom, came drunk into the kitchen and instructed me to clean...........................I refused. I told her she was drunk and to go sleep it off. A fairly large mistake on my part..................I went to the cellar and was looking for some of my fishing stuff as the season was about to begin. I should have paid more attention..............Mom came down to the cellar with a belt wrapped with half of its length around her fist.............Dad a spare. Mom said that I would not disobey her and she swung the buckle end, as I took a step away from her. The heavy buckle caught me at the base of the back of my head........................I ran, keeping the boiler and support columns between us. She chased me in this circle for a few minutes before she gave up and went back upstairs..............time for another drink. I stood there in the dark cellar, listening to hear if she was coming back. I felt dizzy, sick to my stomache.............so I laid down on the cold concrete floor. After an hour or so, I felt a little better and figured that I should find a safer place..................when I got off the floor, the back of my head was wet and sticky................the concrete was wet with my blood. It was time I left for safer ground.
This was not the end. I just learned to move faster.................not to assume that because Mom was drunk, that she was harmless........she had taught me otherwise. I will always remember those days with wonder......................I may not be the smartest person in the world...................but I sure had a special education. Who knew that working in the kitchen could be so hazardous?
Until the next time.............................God Bless.
No comments:
Post a Comment