What is your favorite sweet thing to eat? Bread pudding? Chocolate chip oatmeal cookies? A smooth and creamy piece of cheesecake? Tell us all about the anticipation and delight of eating your favorite dessert. Not into sweets? Tell us all about your weakness for that certain salty snack.
Hell on earth. That’s where I was. I knew it too. I knew as soon as I walked into the house and heard them cackling in the kitchen. Quickly I spun and reached for the door – too late. It slammed and immediately I heard my mother, “David, honey, is that you? Come see who’s here.”
I didn’t have to go see. I could hear them in there. My mother’s sisters, my aunts; Beryl and Moncine had come to visit.
I knew I had to venture into the kitchen. I didn’t want to. I wanted to turn on the TV and watch Sea Hunt or Flipper. I wanted to go back outside. I wanted to hide under the bed but, I summoned up all my courage, stood as tall as I could and shuffled into the fiery depths of hell.
When I got to the kitchen, my aunt Moncine was leaning into the refrigerator, her oversized derrière pointed directly at me, Beryl was standing by the stove with a cup of coffee and a huge smile stretched across her skeletal visage. My mother was leaning against the sink, a cigarette clutched in her talons, beaming at me. Everything slipped into slow motion. My aunts heads slowly got big then small, then big again as they leaned in on me pinching my cheeks, tousling my hair, and slapping wet kisses all over my face. It was horrible.
Silently, I screamed trying to send a telepathic message, “Help me Mom, protect me!” But, she encouraged them laughing the entire time.
I heard her telling them about my achievements at school: student council, art club, youth choir. It was all a blur.
“David’s Social Studies report was selected to be hung on the wall in the cafeteria at school.” Cackle cackle.
“Look how big he’s gotten.” Caw caw, Nevermore!
“A real little man.” Bwah ha ha ha.
“Come here honey and give your Aunt Beryl a big hug.”
“Boil, bubble; toil, trouble.”
Then they delivered the coup-de-gras.
“Isn’t he sweet? I could just eat him up!”
I dropped my school books and ran.
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