J

"Jam",  a curt word. I look up and see your head down. I pass the jam. I look at the boys. They pretend to eat their breakfast with their noses almost touching the bowl. I can see their glimmering glances at the both of us. They are badly in need of a haircut but that's a trial in itself because they want to grow out their hair like David Beckham did. I am not going to give them a bath when they come home with lice. That's for later though.
I look back at you. You are still looking at your plate, so diligently applying the jam on your toast.I clear my throat. I start to speak but you cut me off with a glance. They snicker. I hush them with a glance which says they better concentrate on putting the spoon from the bowl into the mouth or else...I turn to you again. I gulp once and try again. I should have known when we started it yesterday, I should have pulled back. But you egged me on. I admit, I could have given up but I was too caught with the boys yelling and shouting. I murmur, "Sorry".
But you pretend to not heard me at all. You still persist in being childishly angry. I thought you might be more grown up. Well, I am going to have to roll up my sleeves and really get into it! And then you say- "You started it!" The boys now don't even glance at their bowls, they are keenly looking at how this is going to play out. I am indignant. I did not start this. You started it when you said I shouldn't have taken the boys to the park. And you say you were justified in getting angry because it was a dark and unsafe place.
That is when you said I couldn't take care of myself. This is where it actually started. I proceeded to show you how strong I was. I did a couple of chops and swept your feet. And you fell! And you haven't spoken to me since.
I am trying to apologize. Maybe I am doing a bad job. But the you look up and smile. The smile grows, and we are laughing. It is infectious. The boys are now laughing. It turns to howling and all of us have tears in our eyes because of laughing so hard. You say, "You are good."
I pull you up and lift you, my husband, up into air. You are still laughing. I search the walls. The walls that have numerous certificates, pronouncing me winner and expert, a champion in weight-lifting and martial arts.
Or maybe you aren't eating enough!!