ASSIGNMENTS:
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Liz Gonzalez
Long Beach, California USA
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REPORTS:
PREVIOUS NEXT
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The scar that makes me giggle
After lunch that 103 degree afternoon,
while Grandma lay on Mama's bed
talking Spanish on the phone
in the happy girl-voice she used
during long conversations with her sister,
I stood on a chair at the kitchen counter
& spooned peanut butter & jelly
onto a slice of white bread.
I needed to sneak a snack.
She was mad at me
for refusing to eat
the re-boiled canned carrots
& peas on my plate.
"Hey! What do you think
you're doing!" She hissed
in my ear & grabbed at the spoon.
I jumped. Then, a sudden gust
of defiance blew through me.
I tugged the spoon back from her.
The handle slipped
& jabbed my right forearm.
Months later, I'd show people the scar,
tell them she stabbed me.
Grandma'd cringe, embarrassed,
& accuse me of lying. Now
she chuckles, says
"You probably deserved it."
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