Fried Eggs

Yesterday morning (I know I am behind posting)I got up feeling charitable toward Moma. She has asked for eggs for breakfast several days, so I started preparing to fix eggs, toast, and cantaloupe for her when I heard her door open. She came in quietly and sat down. I put her cup of water (for her meds) in front of her, when she mumbled "I don't want no water, I want COFFEE". This was my first clue that her mood was not so sweet. I poured her coffee, and continued getting out eggs and butter. She looked up and said,"Oh good, you're gonna fry me an egg". I told her that I didn't really know how to fry an egg, but I was going to scramble her one. She snarled that lip and said, " I don't want scrambled eggs". I said, "Moma, do you want to wait until Sue gets here? She can fry you one". (The last time I attempted to fry one, it was not pretty) She snapped, "That is ridiculous! (mumble mumble)" I said, "Listen, you can wait for Sue, eat scrambled eggs or do without!" She, again, said "THAT IS RIDICULOUS!" Something inside me went off like fireworks. I slammed that little iron skillet on the stove, spun her chair around and said, "Get your ass up and fix it yourself!" I don't know what happened, I had just had it with her (and so early)! She tottered over to the stove and set to work. It was not pretty, she got it stuck and begin complaining that my skillet wasn't worth a %#@*" Anyway, she ate every bite. I think she was afraid not to!
Sometimes, you just gotta snap!