Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Tuna Sandwich

Growing up we were poor. I knew we were poor, but I never thought we were super poor or anything, more like lower middle class. But here's the thing about "poor" it can be relative. So relative to the people I went to school with, more than half were better off than we were, but there was still a handful that was way worse.

Standing here blogging, I'm eating a tuna sandwich, and while its so yummy, there's a taste of bitterness that goes into making every sandwich. Thinking back to a summer spent with my father (my parents separated when I was about 5 years old so every other weekend and holiday was with dad as well as summers) I must have been about 8 or 9, maybe a little older, and I made myself a couple tuna sandwiches. My step-mother comes into the kitchen and starts yelling at me for only making two sandwiches out of one can of tuna and not four. I mean, this woman didn't just get a little upset, she looses her shit for a good whole five minutes on how she can get four sandwiches out of one can and that I can't just think about myself when making food.
Well dang, I felt terrible for my mistake, but to this day I still can't understand how she got four sandwiches. Look, I can get three, tops, but four? More than that, who freaks out over a can of tuna? How's that for poor? A can of tuna back then was what, maybe 60 cents? Was is really about a can of tuna then? Or was it that my parents were on again off again drug users? And how many questions can I fit into one paragraph?

These are random thoughts I have over every day activities. I don't want to screw up my kids so I end up question myself a lot and it's exhausting.

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