>eating the last o’keefe


There’s a limb on the family tree that spent money on spendy M&Ms as a gift to my father- one of the last of his generation. What to give a non-material man? The leaves on that limb thought: M & M’s with his last name on every M.
My mother served them in a crystal dish, but none of the leaves on my own limb wanted to dip in. Not that we didn’t want to eat them, we just didn’t want to be the leaf to eat the last one. It became a race, then, to get your M’s eaten before the tension of eating the last one heightened to a finger-pointing conclusion.
I’m not pointing any fingers, but I’m saying it wasn’t my mother. It might have been the main trunk himself. I’m noticing he’s not complained they are gone.

About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

3 responses to “>eating the last o’keefe

  1. rox

    >what about the grandbabies? or better yet…the Easter Bunny took them so they wouldn't go to waste!

  2. >you know how it is to save things and then realize that in saving them you denied yourself a great experience? yeah! these Ms needed to be eaten!

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