Introspection

 

Older than me the two cousin-siblings I

adored might even have coached me in the

fine art of disobedience and deception. So

much time has passed I cannot be certain but

what I know of a certainty is that I was not a

biddable child and without doubt easily took

to both disobedience and deception. It did give

me pause once when I overheard my mother

speaking of me to a neighbour saying the

most astonishing thing, that her daughter (me)

would never tell a lie. In the interests of full

disclosure I tutored with no hint of shame a

younger cousin, so angelic it would never

have occurred to him to defy any adult in

authority, but it was I who taught him that he

could slip unwanted food on his dish behind

the stove, under the ice-box (yes, that long ago)

and no one would be the wiser seeing his plate

emptied of the hated fish or liver and to smile

modestly at the praise that followed. In my

kitchen we keep a compost pail on the counter

and into it goes coffee grounds, tea bags, fruit

outer casings, vegetable peelings - and when I

serve dreaded vegetables like broccoli or yam

my aged husband when my attention is diverted

slyly slips them off his plate, placing the clean

plate conspicuously on the counter for inspection.