A Home-Cooked Meal
My dad was pretty terrible to my mom when I was growing up, but for the sake of us kids, Mum used to invite him to stay with us when he had access visits here rather than us flying over there. One year, he brought his new girlfriend along. She, being a relatively lovely woman, decided to cook dinner for us to thank Mum for her hospitality.
She serves up a strange meat casserole full of bones. Mum says, “Oh, this looks nice.” Girlfriend says, “Oh, I hope you don’t mind, I used the bag of meat in the freezer.” Mum pauses, kicks me under the table, and shakes her head fiercely at me. We don’t eat the casserole, claiming not to be hungry. Mum watches intently as Dad eats the entire lot, including my serving.
Later, she told me the disturbing truth about what had been served that night. The bag of meat was actually dog food. She relished the opportunity to watch Dad eat dog food, whilst sparing me from the same fate.