Putting My Feet in the Dirt 17

“Okay, alright already! Now just sit there and be quiet for a minute. One minute, please, is that too much to ask?” A harried woman of about thirty years of age was trying to ignore her mother. Their relationship had become so unpleasant since Mary’s father died, she could hardly stand her mother’s presence.

After her father’s demise, Mary had soul care of her mother who lived in the same home. It was tolerable when her father was alive, but now Mary’s mother took all of her many frustrations out on Mary. Every day there was something that displeased her mother. It was as if Mary was incapable of doing anything right or the “right way” as her mother often put it.

Today it was baking. Chili was in the crockpot and Mary decided to make cornbread to accompany the dish. A salad was ready in the refrigerator and the table set. Her husband would soon walk in the door with their children. Wanting the bread to be hot out of the oven when they arrived, Mary started the baking process.

It was then Mary’s mother stopped watching “The Edge of Night” and came into the kitchen. Mary’s hands were covered in cornmeal when her mother approached. “Are you making cornbread from scratch? It’s so much better from a box. You know how you are, baking is not your forte. . .” Mary just kept on stirring and sifted the cornmeal into the bottom of the buttered pan. Then she plopped in the mixture and completed with a smooth-out of the batter.

“This is going to be delicious!” Mary turned and gave her mother a satisfied smile.