Today's OneWord: Brunch
Brunch was meatloaf hash and a mimosa, the savory and the sweet. My mother ate a crepe while my dad resorted to French toast, as his sweet tooth was bullying his poor molars and tongue into submission.
“So,” my mother said with a raised fork, “when are you going to let us meet your boyfriend?”
I swallowed. “Some other time.”
“So,” my mother said with a raised fork, “when are you going to let us meet your boyfriend?”
I swallowed. “Some other time.”
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