Tiffani sat back on the sofa and thought for a few minutes. Mom is an ex-beauty pageant winner. But Dad knocked her up when she was about twenty, so she had to quit the circuit. She had Nikki, who turned out to be exactly how she wanted. Then, she had Becky, who turned out to be like Paris Hilton, but still enough like her to keep her happy. Then, she had me… and that’s where things went downhill, isn’t it? I was a disappointment to her. She’s always told me so. Fine, I’ll only eat one damn pancake. But that won’t stop me from eating the whole box of chocolate I have hiding in my desk in my room. Instead of God, I worship Godiva. So, there, Mother, what do you say to that?


“Breakfast is ready,” her mother called from the kitchen, as she carried out a large stack of pancakes.

Emma squealed delightedly and hurried to the table, followed by her sisters and father. Tiffani sighed and sat down. “Now, Emma,” her mother scolded, “don’t take too many pancakes, or you’ll get fat and pimply. Nobody likes fat ugly girls.”

“Yes, Mother,” Emma chirped. “I’m only going to take one pancake.”

She has us all brainwashed, Tiffani thought bitterly. Even me. We have to always be pretty and sweet and starve ourselves, or else we won’t be liked.


Becky and Emma served themselves, as did the parents. “Tiffani, dear, the pancakes will get cold. Serve yourself,” her mother said sharply.

Tiffani sighed. Why bother arguing? It’s better to just go along than to do my own thing, she thought. If I argue, Mom will just whine and nag and yell until I give in. It’s easier just to save the trouble and give in, she thought, taking a pancake and slicing into it, then lifting a forkful to her mouth.

“Goodness, Tiffani, where are your manners?” her mother cried out. “You’re stuffing it into your mouth. What kind of self-respecting woman does such a thing? It‘s no wonder you‘re so fat. Emma, I don‘t ever want to see you acting like Tiffani.”

“Yes, Mother,” Emma replied, daintily nibbling at a bite of pancake. Tiffani cringed slightly.


“So, Becky, don’t you have a date tonight?” their father asked.

“Yeah, with Roger,” Becky replied.

“Is he the one studying to be a doctor, or is he the accounting student?” their mother replied.

“Doctor.”

“Oh, wonderful!” their mother gushed. “He seems to be very serious about you. Maybe someday he’ll propose?”

“Maybe.”


Tiffani ate her pancake in silence. After carefully setting down her silverware-- her mother scolded when it was put down even a little too roughly-- she said, “May I be excused please?”

“Yes, you may,” her mother replied. Tiffani stood, pushed in her chair, carried the dish and silverware to the kitchen, and then hurried to her room. Once inside, she shut the door and unearthed her treasure-- chocolates.

She stuffed one into her mouth, and then another. “Dear Godiva, take away the stress and frustration my family causes,” she mumbled between mouthfuls.