A Confetti Of Spaghetti

(My first job is working as a kitchen hand in the same restaurant where my mum is the bar manager. We are seriously short on waitstaff today, so my boss asks me to help out. My first task is to serve a plate of spaghetti bolognese and a pitcher of lemonade to a gentleman eating by himself. As I get to his table I trip, putting the spaghetti in his lap and the pitcher all over him. I am so embarrassed all I can do is apologize before running into the bathroom. The owner of the restaurant comes to find me.)

Boss: “[My Name], are you okay?”

(I’m crying, thinking that not only will I be fired, but so will my mum.)

Me: “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t fire my mum.”

Boss: *trying not to laugh* “That was the best thing I’ve seen in years. That’s my ex-husband who co-owns the restaurant. I’ve been telling him for months that we need to hire more waitstaff but he reckoned that we could manage. He’s changed his tune now, though.”

Me: “So, am I fired?”

Boss: “Nope, but I think we’ll leave you in the kitchen.”

(Both my mum and I kept our jobs. I ended up completing my chef’s apprenticeship there. I only met the co-owner about a dozen times while I worked there as he lived interstate but he never brought up the incident, and whenever my boss needed to hire more staff she’d just mention what had happened. It also became a “what not to do” when they trained new staff.)