The Wrong Side of the Bread
“The mayonnaise is on the wrong side of the bread,” he growled. “I’m sorry, I will make it again for you.” This was a weekly scenario she was all too familiar with. She would escape to the shower when she could, and contemplate her reasons for living. She felt stuck, trapped, and scared. How could she make it with out him? Where would she go? She didn’t want to be another single mother struggling to make it. She just recently had their daughter, so now that made 4 mouths to feed. Oh no! It’s 9:00pm, he will be here any minute and the kids are still up and there’s toys on the floor! “Y’all please help mommy pick up, we have to hurry before daddy gets here,” she said. Then she would strap her daughter to her chest and plead with her 3 little boys to hurry to get in the bed. His car pulls into the drive way, and She hears his supposed “spiritual music” blasting. He unlocks the door. She listen to his heavy foot steps walk all over the house. As he gets closer to their room, she realizes shes holding her breath. She lays still, while holding their daughter and she closes her eyes. He says nothing. They made it another night.
