How to Erase Your Mistakes

by Trina Williams-Emigh

She mistakenly told him that she loved him. But it meant nothing to him. She could write him a poem, sing him a song, or tattoo it on her body, and still it would mean nothing to him.

“Will you just do what I say!!!!!!” he shouted. “Take your ass in that kitchen, make my breakfast, and don’t ask me what the hell I did yesterday!!!!!”

She moved slowly into the kitchen. “Here I go again,” she thought to herself. Once she was there she gathered what she needed to make his breakfast; eggs, cheese, ham, bread, butter, orange juice, bowl, frying pan, egg beater, spatula, and butcher knife. She hummed softly to herself as she cracked six eggs over the bowl and began beating them. She picked up the frying pan and placed it on the electric stove, dropped a splat of butter into it, and the pan sizzled. She popped the bread into the toaster, went back to the pan and sprinkled the shredded cheese and layered the ham slices on one-half side of the frying eggs. The toaster popped, and she walked over got the bread and buttered it with the butcher knife, sliced it in two and placed it on a plate she removed from the dishwasher. She poured some juice in a tall class, and then walked over and flipped the other half of the eggs onto the cheese and ham. She pulled a butter knife, fork, and napkin out of their drawers and placed them neatly on the breakfast bar. She walked back to the pan, turned off the burner, and brought the pan to the bar allowing the omelet to slowly slide onto the plate beside the toast.

“Woman is my damn breakfast ready?” he shouted. “I swear sometimes you just do shit to piss me off!!!”

She stepped into the doorway between the kitchen and the den. “It’s ready baby.”

He strolled into the kitchen and took a seat at the bar in front of his breakfast.

“I hope you like it,” she said with a smile on her face. “It was made with love.”

He looked up at her. “What the hell are you smiling about? Did you do something to my food?” he asked with an untrusting look in his eyes.

She had to turn away from the dishwasher, where she was placing the dirty dishes she had used, pointing at him with the butcher knife in her hand. “Have I ever put anything in your goddamn food?” she asked with a snarl on her face. “Are you suggesting that I have a reason to want to put something in your food?”

His eyes were big as saucers when she turned to him with butcher knife in hand extending from her like a very dangerous looking metal appendage. She wielded the knife like a butcher ready to emasculate a prize bull.

"Umph…uh…ummmmmmmm….no I…I…..I was just tripping baby. I’m sorry. Guess I just got a lot on my mind,” he babbled as he walked towards her and carefully took the knife from her hand. “Why don’t you let me clean up the rest of this mess, and you go have a seat in front of the TV and put your feet up,” he smiled tentatively.

She eyed him quizzically.

“Baby I’m serious. Go in and rest yourself.” He began pushing her toward the living room.

She walked away slowly.

He dumped the breakfast into the garbage disposal and hit the switch. “Baby let’s go out to dinner tonight. You deserve a night out. I’m always taking you for granted. Tonight I’ll take you where ever you want to go.”

“That’s okay. I’ll cook tonight. I already pulled out something to thaw,” she said as she clicked through the channels.

“Baby I’m not taking no for an answer. I actually plan to take you out to dinner every day this week…ahhhhh this entire month actually, just because you are such a wonderful girlfriend,” he said as he started the dishwasher, wiped up the bar, electric stove, and the counter tops.

“Okay if you insist,” she said with a Cheshire smile on her face. “Works every time,” she thought to herself. “You can only let them go so far before ya gotta let them know just how easy it is to “mistakenly” erase them.”

How to Erase Your Mistakes by Trina Williams-Emigh

© Copyright 2007. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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