Untouchable

Chapter 3 - I Need My Steak Knife

Chapter 3 -I Need My Steak Knife
 

           "I became insane, with long intervals of sanity."

           -Edgar Allan Poe

 

           I was chopping onions for dinner when I had my epic realization. It was so obvious that I wanted to bang my head on the wall for not being able to figure it out sooner. I felt so ashamed!

           "Oh shit," I said out loud, the knife in my hand now poised in mid-air.

           "Megan!" my mum exclaimed worriedly, rushing towards me to peer over my shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

           I shrugged in response, and seeing that I wasn't, she proceeded to reprimand me. "Watch your language!"

           I glanced at her and sniggered.

           Don't get me wrong, Katherine Westcott, a.k.a. Mum was gorgeous.

           She had silky light brown hair that fell in soft waves around her face, and right now, it hung a little past her shoulders. Her lips were full and plump, and her eyes that were a warm chocolate brown we're very expressive. She could convey almost anything with a look, and my favourite would be her extremely-pissed look. Mum was also insanely independent and stubborn. We got into arguments a lot, but she knows she's well loved.

           Mum was also curvy, and she stood at 5 feet and 2 inches. So to see her trying to intimidate me was hilarious since I was a couple of inches taller than her. Plus, right now she had a flowery apron on, a mit on one hand, and a spatula on the other. Her hands also happened to be on her waist too, thereby making the spatula stick up to her side. Her face, now all scrunched up, made everything even more comical. This was her stern look, but to be honest, it does not look stern at all. More like odd. And constipated. But don't tell her I said that.

           "What now?" she demanded.

           "Seriously Mum? Look at you," I said as I gestured at her length. "You look absolutely ridiculous. At least loose the SpongeBob spatula."

           She sucked in a sharp breath and gave me a look that said she was deeply offended.

           See, my mum, for some unfathomable reason, liked SpongeBob. And I mean like as in a crazy-and-obsessed sort of like. I shit you not. I have a video of her watching SongeBob and singing "The Best Day Ever" along with the show. Worst part? She bobbed her head along with the beat and even clapped her hands happily. Scary, I know. But don't tell her I did that. Let's keep this our little secret. Well, the first of many secrets, perhaps.

           "I'll have you know that SpongeBob is an extremely well known and respected cook!"

           "Er...he only makes burgers." I pointed out.

           "Krabby Patties! Not burgers!" she snapped and continued. "He is a man of many talents!"

           "You mean a sponge of many talents..."

           "He is compassionate and... and well loved!"

           I held three fingers up and counted.

           "First, that squid despises him. Second, the starfish is just so...well, I can't explain him. And third, the crab keeps him around for cheap labour. Everyone knows that," I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders as I finished.