Fresh Homemade Bread

Growing up my parents continuously brawled Verbally and throwing things was the norm This day was uniquely funny My Sis thought it was not As an adult my sister sees the comic side Though she was left a little traumatized The events that transpired left me mesmerized Father was busy kneading bread with pride Mother cooking stew in the pot Day was nice and sunny Until mom and dad started brewing up a storm Juiced words and names were ultimately called Dough enough to make twelve loaves was angrily balled  Then thrown with strength, precision and fine form Mom scurried like a swift bunny As to the fridge Sis trot Did not see it coming,  no time to jump aside Dough pinned Sis's head to the fridge, she was pressurized Jan 14, 2020 For Contest - A Little Memory * My sister was 5 years old, I was 11. It was like a cartoon.