Gosh, my MIL is at it again. She’s making this putrid-smelling concoction of Calabash she picked from that dang tree at her side yard, they’ve grown it for like years now and it’s fruits had matured and old folks say the fruit can cure ailments – of not so sure what!
Honest, she’s boiling the meat and the smell is like hell … it’s all over the house, it smelled like a witch forcing you eat poison apple, it’s turning my tummy and my nose upset … the meat is pure innocently looking, but when it’s boiled it would turn like bloody mud.
My kids went unruly, they’re murmuring at their grandma – that she’s cooking ‘ ewwwwwwwww’ because of this stuff I swear nobody liked her around.
Haisst, how can I live a life like this, I know a I have a way out of this, I know I can step out of that door easy, but I just can’t. Grrr… not actually because of my MIL because I know she’s too weak to be ruled over, but because I’m too weak to leave my kids… waahhhh!
