Things changed only in recent years, as my Dad and I both became more mature and decided there was no point in making each other's lives more miserable. Or maybe it was my Mom who had gradually taken over the role of making everyone feel uncomfortable and awkward at dinner. When she was in a bad mood and wouldn't talk to any of us, no one dared to have a good time. No one even dared to say a word. We didn't know for sure who exactly she was mad at, but everybody felt guilty. I could think of a hundred things that I'd done which might have upset her. And we would all be worried if AND when she was going to kill us.
Too scared to say "good morning" (because we'd get ignored), but more scared of the consequences if we didn't say it. Imagine this sort of fear for several days straight or even a month. Of course, eventually she'd get over it and we'd all be like "Thank God we survived!" The next time we'd get this vibe from her, our alarm bells would go off like "Uh oh! It's happening again. What did I do/say this time? Aaah, who am I kidding, I can think of a thousand things that she wouldn't approve of!"
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