Fresh Homemade Bread
Growing up my parents continuously brawled
Verbally and throwing things was the norm
This day was uniquely funny
My Sis thought it was not
As an adult my sister sees the comic side
Though she was left a little traumatized
The events that transpired left me mesmerized
Father was busy kneading bread with pride
Mother cooking stew in the pot
Day was nice and sunny
Until mom and dad started brewing up a storm
Juiced words and names were ultimately called
Dough enough to make twelve loaves was angrily balled
Then thrown with strength, precision and fine form
Mom scurried like a swift bunny
As to the fridge Sis trot
Did not see it coming, no time to jump aside
Dough pinned Sis's head to the fridge, she was pressurized
Jan 14, 2020
For Contest - A Little Memory
* My sister was 5 years old, I was 11. It was like a cartoon.
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