The picture on the side is me and my grandpa
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Dear Mom,
You’re watching me with the eyes of a hawk as I silently eat my salad. I’ve refused to eat anything else. You’re making sure that I’m holding my fork correctly, chewing with my mouth closed, etc. My brothers are at my side--- Koel on the left and Cade on the right--- digging into their Enchiladas. Scooting closer to Cade, I grin mischievously.
You lock eyes with me. I just wave innocently, knowing that the gesture will most definitely tick you off. You glare in response, and blood rushes to your face. Obviously, you’re pissed. I wait for you to look away again before stealthily sliding my chair closer to Cade’s.
Finally, I’m beside him. He bends over his plate to lick the sauce from off his Enchilada, and barely containing my laughter, I shove his head into the greasy meal. Not expecting what was coming, he spazzes, sputtering Enchilada sauce. Your death glare slices into me as he wildly thrashes his arms around. Cade lifts his head out of his plate, and when he does, he’s armed with a handful of food.
When he cocks his arm back, I instantly make the connection. The hand loaded with Enchilada is determined to get its revenge. I duck down to dodge his attack, but make my move too late. Greasy Mexican food soars through the air, too fast to evade. It hits me right smack between the eyes.
An eruption of laughter explodes from your mouth. I would strangle you, but I kind of have stuff in my eye, and it really stings.
Love, Hate, Katherin
YOU ARE READING
Dear Mom
Teen FictionDear Readers, This book of letters may be a tad scrambled... maybe more depending on the type of person reading from cover to cover. Just a forewarning, but it's confusing; it's hard to comprehend these events that took place. This story isn't your...
