a short excerpt for whet appetites...

The dinner table hasn’t plunged into deafening silence. It started that way and now only the sounds of fork and knife meeting plate fills the room. My mother looks as if she can barely keep her head up. She has both a red and a white wine bottle standing guard around her glass. Suddenly she perks up, realizing her glass is empty.


Her eyes furtively glance from one bottle to the other. A puzzling dilemma has confronted her.


A swift smile lights up her face. She carefully picks up both bottles and empties their contents into her glass. I watch this with a mixture of horror and fascination, shocked and impressed that none has spilled.


Marta pretends not to notice anything at all, especially my father as he blatantly ogles her cleavage.


Breaking from his cleavage-induced daze, my father starts the conversation ball rolling.


“Walter, how was your day at school?”


“ My day was fine.”


“What exactly does “fine” mean?”


“Just a general term to define my uneventful day.”


You see, father, I can be a dismissive prick too.


“Well, did anything of interest happen? Did you learn something of value?”


“I had my underwear pulled up my ass by two football players. From that, I learned that the rectum, when rubbed raw, is very painful.”


My mother snorts with laughter, so much so that wine shoots from her nose.


“I love wine!”


Not content to let my humiliation rest my father asks, “Did you fight back? Act like a man?”


I bristle at this.


“No, Dad, I was more concerned about my chafed rectum.”


I pause for a moment.


“They were bigger than me anyways.”


Mr. Macho throws his napkin down in disgust.


“Dammit, Walt. You need to stand up for yourself. Be a MAN for Christ’s sake!”

I fire back, hoping I sound more droll than angry.


“Thanks for the encouragement I’ll keep those pearls of wisdom locked away in my special “Daddy’s Super Advice” box.”


The dinner table falls back to quiet. Marta looks as if she really wants to leave.


I look to my mother, whose robe has now come open to reveal a healthy portion of her right breast. I nearly choke on my asparagus.


The wandering eyes of my father linger for a moment on my mother’s exposed breast then flicker quickly to settle back on Marta’s cleavage.