Supper Mom?

T was suppose to make dinner for me this evening. When I got home he was eating beefaroni. Or some such thing. So instead of having made dinner he chose to make himself a ‘snack.’

I let loose with a bit of sarcasm that T took to be the truth. After I screeched at him he came out and made dinner. Spaghetti. Well the first burner ended up with spaghetti in it and began smoking. The back burner also smoking. We finally struck upon the front right burner was working.

Frist though was waiting for the water to boil. Little bubbles begin to form so T thinks that now he can throw the spaghetti in. I get up and go over to look. It was not a roiling boil. We both started laughing as he attempted to say roiling boil 5x fast. It is very hard to do.

We set the timer for 8 minutes and he waited. And waited. When the timer went off he wanted to know if he could throw it against the wall to check it. And it stuck. The kid made good spaghetti in the first try. He did forget about the sauce but that was quickly remedied.

Bringing the bowl to me it only filled a quarter of the way. I asked for a little bit more and was informed that I was very needy.

It was a good dinner and T has added another item to his cooking repertoire with which to wow friends and his father. 🙂

©Oct. 13/21

Picture is my own

Love’s Acceptance

Held
Within the warmth of your arms
Tears falling
Trembling
Blood words fall from my lips
As I recite to you
My dirty past.
No one has ever comforted
No one has ever just listened
Holding me close
Thump of your heart
A lull-a-bye
Soothing
Washing over me
Calming that little girl
Cowering within.
I have seen the shift
eager acceptance
To mild uncertainty
To disgust
As though I were the one
To have called down abuse
A sin 
For which I alone must atone.
Not you.
You cradled me.
You kissed away my tears.
Within you
A protector I have found
A shelter in this violent world. 

©Oct. 5/21
Picture is my Own