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The Time My Mom Chased Me out of the House with a Spaghetti Fork
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One time when I was about 12, it was the middle of the day and I was eating leftover spaghetti at the dining room table.
I was alone enjoying my food. My mom was doing laundry, I think. My older brother was downstairs arguing about something stupid with our younger sister.
Mom came in just as I was finishing my food and asked me a question. Don’t remember what. Distracted, I fumbled my fork. Spaghetti sauce splattered on the back of the chair.
I didn’t think it was a big deal. I had already started to grab a napkin to clean it up. But the look in my mother’s eyes told me, “Run.”
She lost her cool. Apparently, my siblings had been at it for some time and the spaghetti sauce pushed her over the edge. At that moment she was a raging bull and I was the young matador who had just waved a giant red flag at her.
She snatched my fork, raised it high in the air and wagged it at me as she yelled at me for my clumsiness.
Ironically, spaghetti sauce was flying everywhere.
I pointed this out to her. Not my smartest move.
Then, she charged.
