by Focus
© 1999 Focus, all rights reserved
We sat around the table, eating lunch. My sister and I were concentrating on our meal, putting just the right amount of mustard and of ketchup on each hot dog, arranging our carrot sticks, celery sticks, and olives in the most pleasing design. We weren't really paying much attention to the adult conversation.
Mom was nagging at Dad about something. This was not terribly unusual; my mother regularly suggested improvements that she thought her family should make. But we looked up as Mom's voice became more forceful.
"That is enough," Dad said.
Mom disagreed. She continued to explain what she meant. It clearly was something she felt strongly about.
"That is enough," Dad said again, as he sipped his ice water.
"Not talking about the problem won't make it go away! We have to do something!" Mom declared.
"That is enough!" Dad said louder. "Be quiet!"
Our eyes got wide. Dad was a quiet, peaceful man. He never shouted, but he was very close to shouting now.
"I will not be quiet until we settle this!" Mom declared.
Dad had big a cup of water in his hand. Suddenly he threw it at Mom! It got her right in the face!
Mom's face turned red. She stared at Dad a second, then turned and ran from the room.
Dad half stood, as if he were going to follow her, but then he changed his mind. He sat down, and put his cup down.
We giggled. "Mommy sure looked funny when you threw your water all over her," my sister said.
"I don't want to hear another word on that subject," Dad said firmly. "That is enough."
We stopped giggling, and started munching our carrot sticks.