As my mom left in a rage, I was reminded of something.
She told me that love was the most important thing in our family.
She always left exactly five and a half dollars when we went shopping.
My brother wanted an ice cream.
An ice cream cost three dollars each or five for two.
I wanted one, too.
I wanted one too because my brother had one.
My mother didn't want to buy me such an expensive one, she thought I don't deserve it, I didn't agree and kept crying.
She took one out of the fridge and slammed it in my face.
“Here you go. Here you go! You’re hungry? Take it! Don’t say I’m biased later!”
She took Ade away, leaving me alone with the cone on the floor.
I got the ice cream.
I didn’t want to eat it as much as I did at first.
It wasn’t sweet.
I caught up with my mom
