I have eaten
the last slice of pumpkin pie
that was in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving for tomorrow's lunch
Forgive me
I felt a little guilty when I took it actually, but
I cooked for eight hours straight on Thanksgiving
by myself
while I had a migraine
in our outdated kitchen which is roughly the size of a walk-in closet
and feels like an oven itself when the oven is on
and I roasted a whole turkey for you even though I'm a vegetarian
while you mostly watched the Macy's Parade*
therefore
I'm pretty damned sure I was fully entitled to that last piece of pie
*(Because even though
you're a self-styled feminist
your mother, a traditionalist
expecting you would one day expect a wife to cook for you
never taught you how to make anything more complicated than macaroni and cheese
and you've tried valiantly to learn since then
but frankly we both know
that I'm the better chef
Don't feel too bad about it though
my dad never taught me how to change the brakes on the car
either
and I'm really glad you know how to do that)
1 comment:
Love.
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