Why should it be

Why should it be so hard to remember supper? The uncooked, golden strips of chicken breast looked so perfectly sliced, breaded, and spaced on the baking sheet. They looked the way pre-processed chicken nuggets are intended to look but never do. I sit down at the table to read the paper. Over-the-fold is dominated not by a headline but a photograph of an attractive young swimming instructor teaching a six-year-old boy. Next to the photo is a story about how the U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency broke up a Danbury family with no warning and after a number of seemingly-routine previous visits. Good, hard-working people. Honest. A seventeen-year-old honor student who gets to stay because she was born here, while her parents and two older brothers get hauled off to a holding center where they await deportation to Brazil. Proud to be an "American" my ass. I flip the paper, below-the-fold the mayor of our town will be seeking a third term. I voted for her last time even though she's a Republican. I think I'll vote for her again. The only other time I voted for a Republican was when I was young, when I still had strong libertarian leanings, and putting a guy from my then hometown of Waterbury, Connecticut in the Governor's seat seemed like it could help things in the Brass City. Not really proud of that vote, one of the few times I voted for the eventual winner. The other front-page story is about a pharmaceutical plastics pioneer who lived in the town south of here and died in a car accident two towns south of here. But soon Vaughn wakes from her nap. She gets herself settled in a seat at the table. KC still in the kitchen sautéing broccoli, onion, and garlic, and reheating steamed carrots in the microwave. I shake out four or five cheesy crackers on a plate for Vaughn to tide her over. Why should it be so hard to remember supper? What we talked about I mean. I remember Vaughn ate all of her chicken and most of her carrots. She earned dessert, which this time was a few vanilla wafers. I remember KC's disgust with the wafers, saying she'll never buy them again because of the ingredients. I pickup the box and my sight zooms right in on the partially hydrogenated oil. KC says there's not even any vanilla in them. Vaughn says she likes them and wants to get another box when this one is gone. We drop the topic and I shake out a few wafers for myself. Dash had that late nap. I think he sleeps through supper, but I'm not really sure.