Here is my story, based on the photo below, for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
photo by Sandra Crook
Dinner To Go
English is not my mother’s native language. She takes everything literally. When my dad tells her to ‘shake a leg’, she always asks which one.
My sister rushes into the kitchen. “That new restaurant has a drive-through window!”
A big deal for our little town.
When Mama announces she is going out to get dinner, none of us even looked up. Mama goes to the market every day.
About ten minutes later the phone rings. Papa answers and the the look on his face means trouble.
“Mama has driven the car through the window of the new restaurant”