I eye the bowl. It looks like it contains spaghetti, but I’m not sure it does.
“Mum, what’s this?”
“Worms. Remember the other day you said you’d rather eat a bowl of worms than have my spaghetti again? Well, now’s your chance. Don’t worry, though. They’re all dead. I wouldn’t feed you live worms.”
I look at her. She has her serious face on. I think she means it. I try to apologise for what was obviously a stupid remark that, honestly, I don’t even remember making. She doesn’t listen.
“Pick up your fork and eat it. Or else your phone and PlayStation go in the bin, and I’ll tell that girl you like that you have a little willy.”
My mum can be cruel. Actually, forget can be. My mum is cruel.