You know that feeling when your stomach just DROPS out the bottom of you? Like when you miss a step going down the stairs and for a second you’re just… floating? That’s how it feels sometimes when my mom talks about my dad. Like the floor just disappeared. Last night at dinner – it was pasta again, spaghetti with that cheap sauce from the big jar, you know the one – my mom was telling Aunt Carol and Uncle Mark about how dad works so hard and how it’s REALLY stressful at the factory right now. His hands are all cracked and dry from the grease and stuff, I see them when he’s playing on his phone. He barely looked up from the screen but Mom kept going, saying how it’s why he gets so wound up at parties, when he’s loud and kinda mean to people about their jobs or whatever. She said he’s just TIRED. She said it like five times. And then she gave him a little pat on the arm that he didn't even notice. And you just sit there, right? With that feeling in your gut, like a rock? Because you remember him yelling at her just yesterday morning. Not yelling loud, but like, a really low, quiet growl, about how she hadn’t bought the right kind of milk. It was 7:15 AM. I heard it from my room, through the thin walls, while I was trying to find my other sock. He called her stupid. And then later that day, she’s telling everyone he’s just "stressed." My Aunt Carol was nodding like she believed it, but I saw her looking at my mom’s eyes, real quick, like she was checking something. My mom just smiled, this really big, wide smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, you know? Sometimes you just wish you could disappear. Like just fade out of the room, through the wall, into the backyard where no one can see or hear you. Because seeing her like that, making excuses for him while he just glares at her when he thinks no one’s looking… it makes my throat feel all tight. Like I swallowed something pointy. And then I think about when I’m older. And I wonder if my hands will look like hers someday, all busy and a little rough, always trying to fix things that aren't broken, just bent. And I just wanna SCREAM. But you can’t, obviously. You just gotta sit there and eat your spaghetti and pretend everything is fine.