Funny, I
didn't even see it coming.
There you were, sitting over morning cereal
at the head of the table.
Your place.
Lecturing me, you
Scolded about the importance of motor oil.
Check it.
Keep charts.
Keep track of the dates
when you put it in.
Yeah, yeah, Dad,
I KNOW, I insisted,
searching papers for a phone number.
Rage bolted across the kitchen
in a second. Lightening-quick.
I reached the living room, trying to hide.
Your wounding insults,
seething with offended pride
hurt me inside.
I hid.
