Memorial Day Dinner Narrative

Here we are once again. Once a year around Memorial Day weekend, my mother tries her best to put a dinner together for our big, country family. Every year is a disaster. I thought laughter and food (especially food) would make our family put our differences to the side and come together as a family. Last year, two of my optimistic aunties battled it out over who made the best chicken spaghetti. Let me tell you, that did not end well. “You bow-legged dried up frog!” yelled my Aunt Cathy. “Why every year you make that watery mess, knowing that mine taste better? Ask Momma. She will tell you whose is the best.” “Who you calling bow-legged?” said my Aunt Kathline. “Your chicken spaghetti last year was the one that put Momma in the hospital. Talking about ‘oooh she fainted because it was so good that it touched her soul’. Child, please! Momma passed out caused it was not cooked all the way, you fat pig.”
Next thing you know, food was thrown all over the place; weave was on the ground, and black eyes were thrown upon each person. That family reunion is a whole different story on its own. Where are my manners? I did not introduce myself. I am the spoiled, rotten child, Kaleigh Brookes. I’m my mother’s favorite and only daughter. I say favorite because I have an obnoxious, older brother by the name of Dominic Brookes who does not have a care in the world. Every year during the family reunion, he brings a different “female.” We thought last year girl was gone be the last