a breakfast chat

you are so so
self-centered, she
says on the phone.
you have such an elevated
opinion of yourself.
it's all about you!
uh huh, i say.
i have my droid phone
cupped between my shoulder
and chin as i listen
to her babble on. i'm
in the middle of making
breakfast, i tell her,
some one minute quaker
oats, so if i lose you,
call back, these touch
screens are so sensitive.
she continues, ignoring
me as usual. you are
self-absorbed and
heartless, she says.
i take a long woooden
spoon and stir up the oats
so that nothing sticks
to the bottom of the pot.
they are so hard to clean
when that happens. hate
that. i turn the heat down
when it comes to a boil,
right before it goes
over the top edge like
volcanic lava. i then
throw some walnuts and
cranberries on top,
sprinkle on some
granulated brown
sugar, a sweet brown
dusting and pour
a little milk in.
you are so narcissistic
and passive aggressive,
she yells with what sounds
like bitterness,
you only care about
yourself, you need
constant attention
and reassurance
and yet give nothing
back to others, especially
me. you hold the phone away
and blow on your hot
bowl of oatmeal, it
needs to cool a little
or otherwise it could
burn your tongue. she
continues, there is
not an empathetic bone
in your cold body. selfish
is your middle name. i
don't know how i ever
got mixed up with the
likes of you, so
just lose my number,
my e mail, i regret
the day we ever met.
hold on i tell her,
as i lean over
and blow on the steamy
bowl. i take a cold
spoon and taste. yum,
i say. hmmm that's
good. are you even
listening to a word
i'm saying, she says.
i can almost hear
her shaking with anger.
what's up, i ask
her. why so blue today?
you seem really upset
about something. come
on over, i made some
oatmeal. there's plenty
for the both of us.