Saturday, May 17, 2008: They were having Mexican food in the kitchen. My sister had even bought me a burrito. Save me a seat, I asked her. When I went to the kitchen to eat, she was too tired to move so I could sit next to her. I waited until they finished eating. The bag of tortilla chips was on the kitchen counter. Could I have a few? I asked. She consulted with her husband. No, there aren’t any more chips. By this time I didn’t want to eat the burrito. I fixed myself a ham and cheese sandwich that I had bought with my own money.
If all this sounds childish, it probably is. But it still hurts. It really is time to go. I have to figure out how.
Tags: burrito, Mexican food, tortilla chips
