The Beauty of Mac 'N Cheese

I always come home to “I’m hungry!” I drop my bag at the door.I toss the stiff noodles into 6 cups of water and read the box. I stir the mac n’ cheese.

The TV blares in the other room as I watch the water boil around the macaroni.I chuckle at quirky exchanges between Jennifer Aniston and Courteney Cox and I stir the mac n’ cheese.

The kitchen is dirty, dishes overflowing and floor sticky with...something.

I pop my head out of the kitchen to find the sofa covered in socks. Sighing, I stir the mac ‘n cheese.

The house has an unidentifiable scent—a cocktail of old food and dirty clothes. Mystery stainsno one admits to next to an array of cleaning supplies that seem to mock… I stir the mac n’ cheese.

The fridge is worse—remnants of leftovers we all know that nobody will eat, expired bread, milk, and eggs, and of course, cold pizza from last night. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found rocks. I stir the mac n’ cheese.

It wasn’t always like this—a safe haven for all things creepy-crawly; once upon a time, our house was always picture perfect. But you know what they say… when life knocks… I stir the mac n’ cheese.

I’ve come to learn it’s hard to run a household while working and studying. Amma is off working her second job until 10:30 PM. We’ve argued about this because I want her to stop. Still, I stir the mac n’ cheese.

The three kids are too young and foolish to understand what’s happening to us, that we’re poor. They don’t understand eviction, mortgage, and loans. For them, life still rocks, so, I stir the mac n’ cheese.

Amma is and too ashamed to explain it to them, but she can’t hide that truth from me.It’s our secret agreement. She tries to keep the kitchen stocked, and I stir the mac n’ cheese.

Everything about this exhausts me—amma isn’t home enough to parent them the way she did me.I am the best influence at home for our little flock, so I stir the mac n’ cheese.

I’m still only their older sister and my thirteen-year-old brother does everything he can to remind us of that fact. Still, I am the one watching them like a hawk, and I stir the mac n’ cheese.

My youngest sister shuffles into the kitchen, sheepish but excited.“Is the food ready?” she fiddles with the fabric of her frock. I stir the mac n’ cheese.

“In a few minutes,” I mutter, mind preoccupied with grades, salaries, and promotions, and the list of chores still undone. Finishing my poetry assignment on Google docs, I stir the Mac n’ cheese.

One day, I'll make it better, I know it. I will become successful and make my amma proud,Providing enough that if shse wanted, she could get botox, but for now I stir the mac n’ cheese.

I'll make enough to treat my siblings and pay for their expenses,For all my babies, the actress, the nerd, and our resident jock. So I stir the mac n’ cheese

I set the food out on the table and they come running for dinner. This is my motivation to succeed.I know that I will be successful and the people around me now will gawk. I stir the mac n’ cheese.

Justina Jude, CEO of…. Well, I’ll figure it out soon. I take my bowl and my future in my hands.The food is just right, like Goldilocks, and once again, I stir the mac n’ cheese.