Mom's Homemade Lasagna

It was my 13th birthday, as I walked in from school the aroma met me at the door. Mom was always good about making my "special birthday dinner". I anxiously waited for her to yell, "Dinner time, wash up!" As she said those words, my stomach growled, my heart began to beat faster, I couldn't wait to taste the lasagna.

As mom cut the slices (mine always the biggest), you could see the steam carry the aroma off the table. As she used the spatula to lift the lasagna a small cheese trail was left behind, the higher she raised it the longer the trail got. "Make sure I get all my cheese," I said. The plate was garnished with a green salad and a slice of cheesy texas toast.

My mouth watered as I cut into my piece of lasagna, the sausage rolled and the ricotta cheese slid in between the noodles. I never could figure out how to keep all 5 layers together, but that didn't matter. I took that first bite and followed it with another, then another. Soon my piece of lasagna was gone, all that remained was smears of tomato sauce, half of the toast, and a few green leaves with ranch dressing.