Your Last Chance

Your Last Chance


“This is your last chance. Take it or leave it,” said mom.

I looked down at the plate in front of me.

“I think I will leave it. Give it to the dog.”

Mom took the plate away. She scraped it into Misty’s bowl.

Misty ran over to her bowl. She sniffed, turned around, left the kitchen.

“See, not even the dog will eat that stuff.”

Mom stood by the stove. She was creating another masterpiece. Soon another plate appeared in front of me.

“Try this one.”

Now this combination had possibilities. I recognized all the food on the plate. I tasted.

“Perhaps more salt? Then I wouldn’t use the kale like this. Use Swiss chard instead. And the cheese didn’t melt fully.”

“Really? Darn. I thought the kale was a nice touch.”

“Sorry, but you’ve been chopped.”

“Jaime, this is not a reality show. We are trying to create new dishes for the restaurant. I need your help. Would you pay $8.99 for the pleasure of eating this? I call it smoked beef with cheesy greens.”

I looked down at the plate again.

“Mom, have you been smoking the wacky tobaccy again?”

She thanked me for my review by informing me I had kitchen duty at home and at the restaurant for the next thirty days. Hand washing. No cheating with using the dishwasher. Darn.

W/C 226