Word of the Day Challenge: Impavid
” If you were really brave, ” Finella’s mother scolded her from across the kitchen, ” you
would at least taste it. ”
Finella shook her head, ” It looks like something crawled into that crust and died- ”
” It most certainly does not. ”
” of a terrible and horrible disease. Rabies. I’ll bet it died of rabies. ”
Neilina reached for one of the wooden spoons on her countertop and she waved it at her daughter. ” That’s a terrible thing to say. I slaved and slaved over that dish. It’s not like homecooking just crawls out of the fileds and washes and slices and dices seasons and the sautees or bakes itself!”
Finella’s mother took a deep breath, and even though her Mother’s face turned red and then purple Finella wasn’t worried. It meant her Mother wasn’t done talking which of course meant Finella wasn’t going to have to take a bite off of her plate anytime soon.
” I worked to make this meal. I worked at it because I care. If I didn’t care I’d just turn you loose to scrounge up whatever you could find. Is that what you want? Is that really what you want? ”
” More then anything. ” Finella said.
Neilina had a terrible headache now. ” Fine. Fine. Go dig yourself up something. I don’t care.”
Finella scooted her chair back, but before she did she did pick up her fork and she did take a little taste. ” Hey Mom, you know this isn’t really bad. Maybe I can have it later, okay? ”
” Of course. ” Neilina followed her daughter out of the kitchen and down the hall to the front door. ” Don’t stay out too late. It’s cold. ” She opened up the closet door and handed her daughter her jacket and then she reached in and brought out a shovel.
” At least promise me you’ll stay away from the Maltby Cemetery, the people out there are pumped full of preservatives”
One thought on “Table Talk”
Love the kitchen photo, love the words Anita 🙂 🙂