Burnt Toast

Originally believing my mother had dull taste buds, I now understand how she grew to prefer burnt toast, overcooked meat, and the smallest dollop of gravy. As she gifted the best of the meal to my dad, she enjoyed the food vicariously. And even though Daddy almost never complimented a meal and her only reward was that he didn't leave the table in disgust, she continued this practice naturally, perhaps subconsciously, because she is a good mother. Having watched her selflessness for all of my childhood, I, now a wife, automatically choose the apple slice with the least peanut butter.