Our kitchen is the kind you dream about; the kind you see on HGTV. At first it was just really pretty to be in, but hardly used. I’d helped cook dinner many times, but otherwise never ventured past the microwave or toaster. As we settled in, my mom began to work like mad. Though she loves cooking, to this day the most time she spends in the kitchen surrounds the holidays.
With my newfound gratitude, my behavior began to improve, and although she had some residual fear, my mom rehired me for the third time. I had confidence that this would also be the final time; and I was right. I moved back home my sophomore year of college, and it was time to figure out how to really live in the same space as I worked.
I'm held hostage by a mansion, but it has been the most freeing experience of my life and soon the coop will be flown. My mom is always making me sit in every seating arrangement there is when we’re in a new place. “Look at the room from this angle,” she’ll say, “Try this couch.”