“Mom, This Meal is Horrible,” Blurted the Son-in-Law. They’re Too Embarrassed to Tell You, But This Food is Unbearable
Every Sunday, as per a long-standing family tradition, sisters Victoria and Zoey would make their way to their mother Cora’s house in the suburbs for what was supposed to be a delightful family dinner. Cora, a widow of five years, found solace and joy in these weekly gatherings, pouring her heart into preparing what she believed were elaborate, delicious meals for her daughters and their families.
Victoria, the elder of the two, would usually bring her husband, Peter, and their two children. Zoey, younger and more outspoken, often arrived with her husband, Bryan, who was known for his blunt honesty but good intentions. The sisters appreciated their mother’s efforts but had, over time, developed a certain resilience to her culinary experiments which, despite Cora’s enthusiasm, were often less than palatable.
On one particularly memorable Sunday, the air was thick with the aroma of something unfamiliar as Victoria and Zoey stepped into their childhood home. Cora, ever the enthusiast, ushered everyone into the dining room where dishes covered in opaque lids filled the table.
“Something special today!” Cora announced with a beaming smile.
As the lids were removed, a wave of mixed, pungent smells filled the room. The main dish appeared to be a casserole of some sort, with a crust that was an unsettling shade of brown. Side dishes included an oddly textured pudding and a salad that seemed to have too many conflicting ingredients.
Dinner commenced with polite, strained smiles. Peter, ever the diplomat, complimented the salad’s “unique combination of flavors,” while the children poked cautiously at their food. Bryan, however, had always prided himself on being straightforward, and today would be no exception.
“Mom, this meal is horrible,” Bryan blurted out, unable to mask his distaste any longer. The table fell silent. Cora’s fork paused mid-air, her smile faltering.
Zoey shot Bryan a sharp look, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Bryan!” she hissed under her breath.
“No, really, Cora, I’m sorry, but this is just… it’s not good,” Bryan continued, oblivious to the growing discomfort around the table. “I think it’s time we talk about maybe having dinners catered or going out to eat on Sundays.”
Cora’s eyes welled up with tears as she looked around the table, seeking any form of disagreement with Bryan’s harsh words. Victoria tried to salvage the situation, stuttering out a weak defense about “acquired tastes” and “mother’s love in every dish,” but the damage was done.
The remainder of the meal passed in uncomfortable silence. Cora excused herself early, retreating to the kitchen under the pretense of cleaning up. The sisters and their families left shortly after, exchanging awkward goodbyes.
The following Sunday, Cora called Victoria and Zoey, her voice trembling over the phone. “I think it might be best if we take a break from our Sunday dinners for a while,” she suggested, trying to mask her hurt.
The sisters agreed reluctantly, knowing that their mother’s heart was broken but also silently relieved to escape the ordeal of another meal. The tradition that had once brought them all together now left a bitter taste in their mouths, a reminder of how fragile family ties could be when faced with the uncomfortable truth.
From then on, Sundays were just like any other day for Cora, quieter and lonelier, as she pondered over her recipe books, the pages stained with the ghost of family traditions now lost.