Mostly True Memoirs
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My Hidden Talent
It was a lovely holiday weekend.
The family gathered around the table.
I made some focaccia bread.
The Grown Sons renamed it F*** You bread.
While they wolfed it all down.
And then they reminisced about that long-ago Easter when they rearranged all the Peeps into vulgar and inappropriate scenarios.
So, yeah, this is how Boy Mom holidays play out.
They tried to shock me with their offensive language.
Now that they’re grown, it’s time for them to learn who’s in charge around here.
Don’t try to out-smart-mouth me.
I’m the master.
It’s my hidden talent.
I only bring it out under special circumstances.
This was a special circumstance.
I won.
Liz Brenner
Everyone has a story to tell.
Even you.
Especially you.
EVERYONE HAS A STORY TO TELL. WHAT’S YOURS?