My family was visiting for a couple of days: my brother, his wife, and their two kids. I tried my best to be a good host and cooked a nice dinner for everyone on their last evening here, even though I had a particularly busy day at work. A few days ago, my brother mentioned how much he missed Mom’s old fried fish recipe, a dish we all grew up loving. So, I decided to cook it for them as a sweet surprise, hoping it would bring back some good memories and be a nice treat during their visit. I went to the store, got all the fresh ingredients, and spent the afternoon carefully preparing the fish, just the way Mom used to make it. I even made sure to have all the right sides to complement the dish. My house has an open floor plan, so we were all essentially in the same area, although everyone was scattered doing their own thing. Our mom was also staying with me, but she wasn’t feeling great and was resting in the guest room, trying to get some much-needed rest. I was really looking forward to everyone enjoying the meal I had prepared, and I thought it would be a nice way to end their visit on a high note. Little did I know, the evening would turn out to be anything but pleasant, and I would end up feeling incredibly hurt and unappreciated by the very people I was trying to show my love and hospitality to.
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So, when everything was ready, I called everyone to dinner, hoping they would be excited to gather around the table and enjoy the meal together. But to my dismay, no one moved. I found it odd, but I figured maybe they just didn’t hear me the first time. So, I called again, a little louder this time, making sure my voice carried throughout the house. Still, nothing. I walked over to the living room to see what was going on. His wife was engrossed in scrolling through Facebook on her phone, completely oblivious to my presence. My brother was glued to the television, watching a football game with intense focus, and the kids were each deeply absorbed in their individual video games, their thumbs furiously tapping away at the controllers. It was as if I didn’t even exist; I was invisible to them. Feeling hurt and a bit defeated, I decided to just start eating alone. I plated myself a portion of the fried fish and sat down at the dining table, trying to enjoy the meal despite the heavy feeling in my heart.
After I finished eating, I thought maybe they would be ready to eat then. I asked, perhaps a little too hopefully, if anyone was going to eat. My brother, without even looking at me, simply grunted and went outside for a smoke. The kids completely ignored me, their eyes still glued to their screens, their fingers still flying across the game controllers. His wife just gave me a dismissive gesture, indicating that she was too busy with whatever she was doing on her phone to bother with dinner. At that moment, I felt a surge of frustration and anger wash over me. I had put so much effort into preparing this meal, and they couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge it, let alone appreciate it.
After about 20 minutes, the food had gone cold. I knew that fried fish doesn’t reheat well, and I didn’t want the house to smell like old fish, so I stood by the trash can, feeling incredibly upset and unappreciated, and started to throw the remaining food away. It felt like I was throwing away all the effort and care I had put into making the meal. That’s when my brother finally noticed me and asked, with a tone of mild curiosity, “What are you doing?”
I was about to answer him, my voice trembling with a mixture of sadness and anger, when suddenly our mom came out of her room. She had apparently heard the commotion and decided to see what was going on. She looked at the scene before her – the cold, uneaten food, my tear-filled eyes, and my brother’s oblivious expression – and her face immediately turned stern. I knew that look; it was the look she gave us when we were kids and had done something wrong.
And then, without missing a beat, she turned to my brother and said, **”Dave, she’s been working all day and made you your favorite meal. The least you could do is put down your stupid football game and show some appreciation!”** Her voice was sharp and filled with disappointment, and it cut through the air like a knife. I was shocked. I had never heard my mom speak to my brother like that before, especially in front of his wife and kids. But in that moment, I felt a surge of relief and gratitude. Someone had finally stood up for me and acknowledged the effort I had put in. My brother, clearly taken aback by my mom’s outburst, looked ashamed and mumbled something about being busy. But the damage was already done. The rest of the evening was awkward and tense, and the next morning, they left without saying much. I don’t know if they ever truly understood how much their actions hurt me, but I hope that my mom’s words at least made them think twice about taking my efforts for granted in the future.
The experience left me feeling drained and questioning whether I should even bother trying to do nice things for them again. However, I also realized that I deserved to be treated with respect and appreciation, and I wouldn’t settle for anything less. The next time they visit, things will be different.
