The Wrath of Mom

...And the string of bad things happening to me lately continues. So: this morning, I go out to the kitchen to get some breakfast--a bowl of cereal, an orange, and an apple. I like to eat a big breakfast, in the hopes that it will stop me from eating mass quantities of marshmallow peeps later in the day.

I see my mom standing there. I say, "Good morning, Mom." She says, "So your dad was sick last night. I think he got the same thing you had. Now I'm worried I'll get it!" You should have seen the panic in her eyes. I said, "Well, if you don't feel sick, then you're probably not sick. It hits you pretty fast, at least it did with me." And I went about making my breakfast. As I poured milk on my cereal I said, "If you're worried about it, you could just not eat anything, because then you wouldn't have anything to throw up." I thought it was a smashing plan. Then she started angrily emptying the dish rack, slamming plates and cups noisily into the cupboards, and she said, "Well I am going to eat because I'm hungry! I'm going to have a bagel!"

I decided it would be a good time for me to leave. You see, my mom is often in a really, really bad mood in the morning. Yep. Pretty much every morning, I awaken to the sounds of her furiously slamming the washing machine lid or berating one of our cats for peeing on the bathroom scale. I know better than to get in her face about this behavior, as her bad mood has usually passed by the time I see her again later in the day.

But then I had to go back to the kitchen for a napkin... I walk in to find her heaving my empty milk carton and empty box of cereal onto the hardwood floor. You see, I had used up the last of the milk and the last of the cereal, so I left the empty box and the empty carton sitting on the counter as a reminder to myself to take them out to the trash. Emptying the trash in this household is a major point of contention, as we have only two very small trash receptacles, which fill up very quickly and need to be emptied pretty much every day. My mom always ends up emptying them (only because she makes a point to do it everyday! Not because we force her at gunpoint), so I guess she gets secretly mad at my dad and I for never doing it and then she lets her anger build up to the point of...throwing things.

Needless to say, we had a confrontation. Things were said. And now I feel sick to my stomach.