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My Disciplinarian
We had just finished dinner and mom was cleaning up. She loaded the dirty pots and pans into the dishwasher. She didn’t talk to me. Instead she let her actions speak for her. Slamming pots and pans were her way of conveying her anger. “Kait, you are a foolish girl. You had better tell me what you were thinking. Tell me!” she ordered. Her face was red with anger and I knew she wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon. If she wasn’t ignoring me, she was begging for a fight. “Mom- for the...