Marc and I hear Mom breaking stuff and crying. We go downstairs. It's the blue and white set of dishes--she's doing it shelf by shelf and she's covering the kitchen floor. "Stay out of the way." she tells us. We stand there and watch her.

She tells us that Dad is a terrible father and a terrible husband and the most selfish person in the world and she can't believe she married him and he's coming home late tonight. "Too late," she says.

After the dishes, she starts in with the stuff in the fridge. Some of the eggs don't break. I'm impressed with their shells.

She finishes, and announces that it's time for bed.

As I'm falling asleep, I hear Mom crying softly.

I wake up in the middle of the night. I hear Mom crying. I crawl out of bed and knock on her door. "Mom, are you okay?" I only hear more crying, "Mom?" I open the door. It takes me a second to figure out what's going on. "Oh, Dad's home," I say, a little embarrassed and a little grossed-out. I shut the door.