I tuck a blonde Strand of my hair behind my ear and slowly use the wet rag to wipe down the counter. I pressed down scrubbing away coffee rings and stray pieces of food. Finally, I threw the rag in the trash, and walked to the back room.
"I'm going home," I called to my co-workers who were taking smoke breaks. I grabbed my purse and left the restaurant. I climbed into my jeep and took the long road home. Once I got there, I opened the door and the smell of spaghetti greeted me.
"Baby," my mom called to me. She sat at the table with Dad. "Your food is on the counter."
"Thanks," I said back. I stepped into the dark kitchen, and looked to see if mom was looking. She wasn't, so I poured the spaghetti in the trash, and waited so it seemed like I ate it. I placed the dish in the sink, thanked mom, and headed to my room upstairs.
