The meal can be described with just five words, mostly gross and totally boring. I don’t think anyone said more than a dozen words all through the meal; and then there was the food! First, I was served a bowl of cold green soup; that they called Shrimp Cocktail Soup. Okay, for starters, soup is not supposed to be cold and I’ve had Shrimp Cocktails before, and that soup tasted nothing like that.
Then I was given a bowl of some yellow round vegetable with mushy seeds in the middle and a plate, of what I was told was fish. I know fish; I’ve spent a large portion of my life on and eating what comes from the ocean, so I think you know that I know fish! I could write a whole book about fish and I’m here to tell you, that I have never seen or smelled fish like that stuff. I think I only ate maybe two bites of it; the first bite was bad, the second was worse! However, I ate all of the yellow vegetable stuff. At first, I was hesitant, but after I tasted it, I found out, that I really liked it. I had been told what it was called, but I don’t remember now and we haven’t had it again since that first evening. Whatever it was, it was bright yellow and crunchy on the outside and kind of pale yellow and mushy inside. It tasted like… well, I have never had anything like it. It was ever so slightly sweet, with a hint of butter; oh, it was so lip smackingly yummy!
When we were done eating, I tried to talk to Mom, but all she said to me was, “Go get yourself ready for bed.”
When I tried to apologize again, she stomped her foot, pointed the way out of the room and said, “Bed, now mister!”
I dropped my head and slunk from the room, but I didn’t go directly to my room, because yet again, I got lost. However, this time I ended up in the kitchen, where this slightly overweight woman was washing out a shiny copper pot.
“Excuse me.” I said timidly.
Boy, I scared that lady so bad, that she nearly jumped out of her skin. She let go a screech and turned on me, like she was going to brain me with that copper pot.
“OH!” she exclaimed as she clutched at her heaving breast. “Oh my, you gave Micah such a fright!” she said with a thick foreign accent.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean,” I tried to say.
She then became stern with me. “W-what you doing in Micah’s kitchen? You should not be in here!” she said, waving that pot at me and for the second time I thought I was about to feel it upside my head.