How They Really Feel

May 22, 2012
By
Five minutes after my dad yelled that the food was ready, I walk down the stairs to our dimmed and decorated dinner table thinking to myself "I wonder what she made this time". As usual my step mom is still running around trying to fix the rolls or the green beans well after I've sat down to start my salad. Soon after me, my dad sits in the seat between my step mom and I and we both awkwardly fork small bites of lettuce and crumbled goat cheese into our mouths. We look over at her while chewing to try and signal her to stop messing with the already mouth watering teriyaki chicken to come eat. Finally my dad tells her to stop worrying and sit down. She scurries over with her loud clacking heels across the spotless tiled floor. As i finish my last three delicious bites of salad, my dad is trying to serve his wife her first. I try to sit patiently although my stomach is still twisting into knots since we don't start dinner until eight due to dinner being a two hour preparation process. To pass the time while she takes her squirrel sized bites, I strike up a conversation about the eighty-seven percent that I got on my AP final. However, she makes no comment besides her usual high-pitched "WOW, that's great Lynnie!" sounding as if i passed my fifth grade spelling bee not my senior AP final. Then she proceeds to change the subject to how my dad forgot their anniversary by one day last year. So he got your two-dozen roses and elaborate dazzling card along with a date to a five-star Brazilian steak house a day late, big deal. I brush their lack of interest off my shoulder and get up to put my petite blue glass bowl in the sink. I come back only to get my plate to fill it with juicy chicken, seasoned mini red-skinned potatoes, buttery green beans and a steaming sweet roll. I wish i could just eat it in the comfort of my bedroom so they can talk amongst themselves quietly now rather than after dinner when i go to my room anyways. I've always wondered what they whispered about, if it was me and how I'm not as pretty or responsible and independent as her two daughters or if they talked about money and how paying for my college could leave them short of funds to pay for their trip to Paris next summer. Then again i cant always escape to my room for comfort, so I stare down the ravish purple orchid center piece on the table as I linger back to my plush and puffy padded seat. Now their discussing my dads poor diet, the poor man just loves his hot dogs and well done fries, and she's harping on him about how he doesn't portion his food well enough and that he needs to lose his gut. I don't want to contribute to the criticism so I look down as I sift through my pile of greens for the smallest bean pod, as if I'm a small child pushing around my broccoli. Not long after I'm done mushing the green bean around with my tongue and the roof of my mouth, my dad says "So Lynno, hows the job search coming?" Have i just been acknowledged? Yes. So excitedly, I announce that I'd gotten an interview with a brand new frozen yogurt place. They smile as i go on about the great opportunity to get out of the house this summer and start earning some money of my own. I start to eat much faster than before out of excitement and i fork the last chunk of tender chicken breast into my mouth. Both parents nod with approval and finally i take a sigh of relief. I adjust my slouchy posture and pull my shoulders back with a smile as i get up to put my emptied plate and fork in the sink.





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lovelivesinthesun said...
May 28, 2012 at 12:11 am
I enjoy this piece, more of a stream of consciousness I believe, but it has a few grammatical errors, etc. 
 
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