We pulled away from the school. I put my book away because it wasn’t serving its purpose, obviously. I guess he didn’t feel so threatened by literature books. Plan for the weekend, failed.
We passed by all the fast food places and I could see it in dad’s eyes that he hoped I wouldn’t ask him to stop at one… But, I was so terribly hungry. I decided to wait until we got to his house to raid the fridge. That’ll teach him to drive me through the fast food district without stopping.
When I got inside, I dropped my book bag off in the guest room and ran into the kitchen. Now, I can have a sandwich!
I opened the refrigerator, and there was nothing… Well, there was nothing there that I could eat without cooking--and burning…
Dad has got to be kidding me… Mom had to have told him that I can’t be within 10yards of a stove--after I damn near burned down the kitchen last summer.
“Um, dad… There’s no food here,” I told him as he came through the door with my overnight bag.
“Cook something, Jen” he said, dropping the bag beside the door.
“But daaaad,” I whined, following behind him like a hungry kitten, “I can‘t do that!”
“Well, can’t you go over to Cat’s and eat or something? I’ve got something very important to do tonight.”
“Something important like what?”
“Something that doesn’t concern you. Now get your jacket, and I’ll drop you off there.”
“Well, dad, can’t you just give me ten bucks for pizza or something? I promise I won’t over do it… I only need a little bit.”
“Alright, alright! Two bucks for two slices!”
“Jennifer Brighton, coat. Now.” “Gahh! Fine.”
I waited in the car, and about five minutes later, he came running outside, straightening his tie.
“Oh wait dad, I left my phone. I totally need to text Megan when I get to Cat’s house. Can I go get it?”
“Hurry, Jen, I’m gonna be late,” he said, checking his hair in the mirror.
“Sure, dad, try not to have a cow while I’m gone, okay? I‘m only average at Agriculture,” I said, stepping out of the car.
I ran inside and searched my bag frantically for my phone. Dad‘s house phone rang, but I promised that I‘d hurry back to the car. So, I ignored it and continued to search.
“AHA!!” I exclaimed proudly after finding it wedged between my shoe and bed. Then, the answering machine picked up.
“Listen, Danny, I’m gonna be a little late,” a woman said. “But when we get there, I want the largest steak on the menu!” she snickered, as if spending his money were some sort of game.
“He’s got kids to feed!” I angrily yelled at the machine.
When I got back inside of the car, I slammed the door and folded my arms angrily.
“What’s your problem?” dad asked, pulling out of the driveway.
I kept quiet for a moment or two, and after thinking of what I wanted to say, I asked, “So, what are you really gonna do tonight?”
“So that’s what this is all about… Jen, listen. You can’t get mad that I can’t provide you with the luxury of fast food. That stuff isn’t good for you anyway.”
“Oh, and I guess an expensive piece of steak is better for my health, right?” I mumbled curtly.
“What was that?”
© Copyright 2016 Jennifer Brighton. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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