Gail put her hands up to her son’s face, cradling it. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way.” Then he rested his forehead on hers and said, “I’m sorry, Mom. He followed her to the kitchen and took the ketchup bottle out of her hand. Stephen was mortified at the angry tone he had used. Gail hopped up immediately and went for the ketchup. Like this stupid game why didn’t she…, “Just get the damn ketchup, Mom.” The more he thought of the disregard and disrespect she took, the madder he got. Stephen didn’t like the way his dad treated his mom. He didn’t think it was a fun game, though, and he’d had enough.
This was a game that Stephen had watched his parents play for a few years now. Stephen’s mom, Gail, a petite brunette with a trim figure and a usually-ready smile, said peevishly, “I just sat down Frank. His dad, Frank, grey haired and tired-looking, asked his wife, “Get the ketchup, eh?” Stephen and his parents sat down to eat dinner.
