Agoloso Presents - Atondido Stories Agoloso Presents - Mama Mada | Page 276

Mama Mada
Full Circle
by Santino Prinzi
I stood and looked through the glass kitchen door panels into the living
room, where our cat laid on its side. Vomit and faeces stained the grey
carpet, and I cried. My brother cried too, and he was five, so my mother
lied and said he’s sleeping. My mother scooped our cat into a black bin bag,
and that is where he sleeps. I didn’t see it, but I know it’s true.
We sat around the table in our kitchen, dinner was served; my brother
and I were merciless. We would say it stink s lik e wee , or complain that
it’s too gloopy, or that we didn’t know what it was, and my mother
would say it’s nice. We would cough and splutter, we would whine that we
didn’t want to eat leeks, we pushed our plates away, we spilled the
gravy, we dropped the glass and we never washed up. We were always
told to eat our crusts too so our hair would grow curly. But I d o n’t want
curly ginger hair, Mum, though I did want to see in the dark.
Despite what I believed growing up, I learnt that I could do no better. I
burnt rice to pans, caught the tips of my fingers cutting carrots, was
clueless when my dog died, and I rolled my eyes at my mother who,
whilst criticising the lumpy cheese sauce, ate the lasagne I cooked for her
anyway.
271