Acrostic: When the first letters of successive lines are arranged either in alphabetical order (= abecedarian) or in such a way as to spell a word.
My mother was cheap. My sister and I would make mooing sounds when she brought home the fake butter. She would tell us that butter was sooo expensive. She saved twenty-five cents while depriving us of one of nature’s greatest flavors. My dad worked in a diner washing dishes and every once in awhile he would sneak out 3 or 4 pats of butter. Dad would make toast and smear on the butter. All you could hear was “Mmm” and the crunching as we bit into the heavenly toast.
Finally, one day, Dad brought home a whole stick of butter from the diner “at great personal risk.” We took turns holding it and smelling it. Mom said she was “going to make all kinds of things with it.” She started making brownies. We had heard of them, but had never eaten, or even seen one. Mom said they had a chocolate flavor with walnuts mixed in. I felt like I would soon be visiting an exotic land with belly dancers and camels and harems.
Before Mom even got started, there was a moderate earthquake. The butter fell off the table and Arf, our idiot dog, gobbled it up and barked for more. Dad got the shotgun out of the closet and loaded both barrels. “Goddamn worthless mutt,” he yelled putting the leash on Arf so he could take him out in the yard and shoot him. Mom said, “Hebert, if you shoot that dog, the will be no love between us ever again.” We she said “love” she made quotation marks with her fingers. With that, my dad unleashed Arf, unloaded the shotgun, and put it back in the closet.
I had saved $1.00 from my allowance. I did odd jobs around the house—cleaned the toilet, took out the garbage—all the things my father wouldn’t do. I was going to use my dollar to buy Mom a new stick of butter. I went to the supermarket and found what I was looking for: “Land ‘O Lakes.” I thought the girl on the box was pretty. I opened the box and took out one stick.
The check out lady told me I had to buy a whole box of butter, that opening boxes was not allowed at the supermarket. I told her I only had a dollar and one stick was all I needed. She tried to pull the butter stick out of my hand. I pulled it away and ran out of the supermarket holding it like a marathon runner’s baton. That’s when I discovered I could run really fast. I outran the police car that was chasing me! I couldn’t believe it. I was like a rocket! Mom made the brownies and we ate them all in one sitting. Dad even gave one to Arf. It made him a little sick
The next day I joined the school track team. They called my Johnny Lightning. I was state champion every year and won three Olympic Gold Medals.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
Buy a print edition of The Daily Trope! The print edition is entitled The Book of Tropes and is available on Amazon for $9.99.