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From Flying Tongs to Freedom
Rewriting My Unhappy Ending
“Everything is ruined!” Those were the words we heard as he slammed the sliding door with so much force that the table in front of it rattled and the door re-opened a crack.
It was New Year’s Eve and my husband was the grill master of our surf and turf dinner. My college roommate and long-time friend was there to celebrate with us along with her boyfriend, who was still new on the scene.
He struggled with crab legs and filet mignon because, as luck would have it, the grill had run out of gas, and our well-planned dinner was going to require a Plan B. Unfortunately, dealing with setbacks was never his strong suit.
I could tell by his performance with the sliding door that this would be a delicate situation. It was New Year’s Eve, we had company, and he was coming unhinged. “It’s okay,” I started to say tentatively taking a step towards him in our tiny kitchen.
That’s when the tongs he was using to man the grill hurled past my face and hit the stove with a loud crash. It wasn’t the first time I had witnessed him throw things out of frustration, but I was startled by how quickly things had escalated this time. I jumped back and my friends both stood there in wide-eyed disbelief.
