Cliff Anderson stared into the runny mashed potatoes. The pinch pot containing the instant potato mix had been made by his son in Reform School pottery class, and while functional, was not aesthetically pleasing at all.
“Dad. Gimme the potatoes.”
Inside Cliffs mind, a little voice suggested picking up the bowl and throwing it at his fourteen year old daughter.
It wouldn't take much, just grab and throw.
Just grab, and throw.
A small smirk flicked across the left corner of Cliffs mouth as he reached over and lifted the bowl, before setting it down within reach of his daughter.
Daisy, was about as far from her namesake as it was possible for a fourteen year old to achieve. She had pierced her lip, nose and left eyebrow. She had also tattooed the international sign for recycle across on her right cheek the size of a coaster.
All her face tackle had been acquisitions she had made while running away from home for the third time.
At the other end of the table sat Cliffs wife Tammy. Cliff found himself attempting to remember back before their children had intruded so pointedly into their lives.
Cliff and Tammy had met at a state fair, she was selling the deep fried HoHos and Cliff was on leave from the Army. He had first seen his wife of twenty three years while watching his close friend vomit up his lunch from the tilt a whirl. The putrescent stream had jetted out from the spinning contraption and hit one of Tammy's customers full in the face.
The young boy had commenced to cry as the bile worked its way down the front of his overalls while his mother stepped back in unbelieving horror.
Cliff had run on up to assist, only to be beaten to it by Tammy. She wiped the boy and awarded the rotund youth a fresh piece of fried food for his trouble.
Cliff had never been a romantic man, but his luck in finding possibly the most promiscuous woman in the carnival awarded him a quick turn with Tammy. She had run off with him back to Fort Hood and the two had somehow managed to survive.
Three children later the pair were starving their way through their two mortgages for a single floor three bedroom house. Their oldest son, Reggie, was in jail following a failed robbery of an adult bookstore, and their two hundred fifty pound, self loathing daughter seemed determined to follow.
Cliffs mind was wrenched away from thoughts about the hopelessness he felt about his sons and daughters prospects by the sudden thud that marked the near daily demise of James Franklin Anderson.
The two year old had put both feet out from his high chair and kicked for all he was worth, catapulting himself and his chair backward in an arc cackling with mad delight. The high chair slammed into the ground bouncing the young childs now unconscious form completely free of the wreckage.
The unexpected lurch of the table caused Daisy to spill her milk all down the front of her t shirt.
She immediately began to cry.
“It’s not fair.”
She said, sobbing into her sausage like fingers.
“It’s just not fair. I didn't ask for any of this to happen! Why won’t this family just leave me alone”
Tammy was on the floor checking on James Franklin while scolding him simultaneously. The young boy had a look of dumb incomprehension on his face, as though his sudden arrival to the floor was entirely a surprise to him.
Daisy continued to sob and berate everything that had happened in her life since she was old enough to understand object permanence.
Cliff simply stood up and took his dinner to the bed room with him, and switched on the television.
“Tonight at 11,”
said a broad mouthed smiling female anchor
“more and more families are eating dinner separately. We ask our resident experts what this means for the stability of the American family.”
Cliff laughed, spearing a head of broccoli viciously on his fork and worked the vegetable around in the instant gravy.
From outside the door he heard his wife disciplining the two year old, while the slamming of the screen door announced his daughters fourth bid at freedom.
Cliff saluted the slamming door with the impaled gravy soaked vegetable.
“Maybe this time she’ll run off and join the carnies.”
He said, before popping the miniature green tree into his waiting mouth.
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