My father-in-law waits until I turn my back, then sneaks into my kitchen and sticks his fingers into whatever I’m cooking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gravy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nothing is safe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He dips a finger in and licks it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then goes right back for another taste.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sometimes he even helps himself to half the food before dinner is ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And when I finally call everyone to the table?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No apology.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No thank-you.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not even the decency to wait for the rest of us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’ve asked him to stop more times than I can count.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He just laughs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Relax, sweetheart. A little taste never hurt anybody.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even my husband, Jasper, has tried talking to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But apparently, asking nicely only works until the next pot starts bubbling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stepped away to grab something from the pantry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When I turned around, there he was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Standing over my pot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One finger in the soup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pulled it out, tasted it, and gave me that smug little grin.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn’t believe the nerve.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Henry! You just licked that finger! You’re going to put it back in the soup again?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He chuckled and reached toward the pot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been doing this my whole life.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He rolled his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then don’t eat it. More for me.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That was the last straw.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Maybe you should start cooking your own meals if you can’t respect mine!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Listen, sweetheart. This is my son’s house. I don’t need your permission to taste a damn thing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I turned to Jasper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He’d been standing in the doorway the whole time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He’d seen everything.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He walked out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stood there, speechless.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’d spent months asking Jasper to stand up for me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And every time Henry laughed at me, I wondered how much longer I could keep pretending it didn’t hurt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Was Jasper really going to walk away again?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry chuckled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“See? Even my son knows you’re making a fuss over nothing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was carrying something from the garage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something heavy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Something metal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And when Henry saw it, his grin disappeared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was an old red toolbox.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The metal handle rattled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry stared.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Where did you get that?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your old toolbox, Dad. You left it here when you helped me clear out our garage.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry frowned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper opened the lid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside were several old wrenches, a hammer, and a screwdriver with a cracked wooden handle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He picked up the screwdriver.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Remember this?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry glanced at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Remember when I borrowed it?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry gave a short laugh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You borrowed plenty of my tools.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I was 12. I took it without asking because my bicycle chain was loose.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper turned the screwdriver in his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry shrugged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I taught you a lesson.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You made me clean the entire garage. Six hours. Because I touched something that belonged to you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s right. And you never did it again.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No. I didn’t.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He placed the screwdriver down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Tell me what you said that day.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry looked irritated.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“How should I remember something from 25 years ago?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper’s voice was quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You told me that if a man works hard for something, nobody has the right to touch it without permission.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry folded his arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Good advice.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry blinked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She worked two hours making dinner. She’s asked you repeatedly not to touch her food. You keep doing it anyway.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You’re comparing a screwdriver to soup?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m comparing respect to respect.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper didn’t move.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You taught me to respect everything a man works for. Who taught you that a woman’s work doesn’t count?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’d never heard him speak to his father like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry’s face reddened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Don’t start lecturing me about women. Your mother cooked for 40 years and never made this much fuss.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Mom stopped making a fuss because you never listened.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry laughed sharply.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your mother was happy taking care of her family.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper stared at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Was she?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then why did she never sit down to eat with us?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry frowned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What are you talking about?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Sunday dinners. Remember?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your mother always fed everybody first. That’s what she liked doing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he said something that made my stomach tighten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She used to tell me she was already full.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry shrugged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Exactly. She tasted everything while cooking. Just like I do.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His voice had changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not louder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sadder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I believed that for years.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pulled out a chair but didn’t sit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She’d wink and call it the cook’s secret privilege, even though she never kept the best piece for herself.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry rolled his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Because you were growing.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She’d give you two pieces. Sometimes three. Then she’d tell me she wasn’t hungry.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper looked at the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I remember one Sunday when I was about ten.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You came home early and helped yourself before dinner. Mom had made chicken and potatoes.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You ate straight from the roasting pan. Then you filled your plate before Mom called us. When she finally sat down, the chicken was gone.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper swallowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Mom put the last piece on my plate. I asked where hers was.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at Henry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry gave an impatient sigh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“So?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That night, I woke up thirsty.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper’s fingers tightened around the chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I went downstairs. Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a slice of bread.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“People eat bread, Jasper.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She was hungry.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You don’t know that.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She told me.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper’s eyes were wet now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But I remembered she’d told me she’d already eaten.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The kitchen was completely quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She smiled and told me to go back to bed.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper looked at his father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His voice broke slightly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“For 27 years, I thought nothing of it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry shifted his weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your mother never went hungry in my house.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper answered immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry opened his mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nothing came out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I looked at the soup on my stove.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the chicken I’d carefully shredded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the vegetables I’d chopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This wasn’t only about my dinner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was about every dinner he’d remembered incorrectly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry finally spoke.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your mother could’ve made herself something else.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper stared at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Well, she never complained.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s what you keep saying.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Because it’s true!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper pushed the chair back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Did you ever ask her?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Ask her what?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Whether she’d eaten. Whether she was tired. Whether she wanted you taking food before everyone sat down.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry looked offended.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I worked hard to provide for that family.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I paid for everything!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That didn’t mean you were entitled to everything.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry pointed at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt my face burn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But before I could answer, Jasper stepped between us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Don’t blame Lisa.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She started this argument!”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No, Dad. You did.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper took a breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Actually, you started it years ago.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he looked down at the toolbox again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And something else seemed to come back to him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Do you remember when I was 12 and complained about Mom’s meatloaf?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“What about it?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I told her it was dry. I said she should learn to cook properly.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry gave a faint smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Kids say things.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I said it exactly the way you used to.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Mom took my plate away.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hadn’t heard this story before.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She told me I could have it back when I learned to speak respectfully.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry snorted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“That’s what I thought.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper looked toward the window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Later, she came to my room. She sat on the edge of my bed and asked why I’d spoken to her that way.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I told her I was only joking. Like you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She said something I’ve never forgotten.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper looked straight at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“‘Your father taught you that people should respect what belongs to you. I want you to remember that other people deserve respect, too.'”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody moved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper’s voice was barely above a whisper.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She was worried about the man I was becoming.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry shook his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You’re making your mother sound miserable.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m remembering how hard she tried to keep me from making somebody else miserable.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I felt tears gathering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Helen had died four years earlier.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I’d known her for only a few years.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But I remembered her warmth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The way she asked whether I’d eaten.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Even when everyone else had finished.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I had thought she was simply thoughtful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Now I wondered how often she’d learned to put herself last.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Your mother loved me.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m sure she did,” Jasper said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then stop talking like I was some terrible husband.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper’s answer came slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Did you make her feel loved?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Of course.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“When did you last thank her for cooking?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Don’t be ridiculous.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“When did you last wait for her to sit down before eating?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry said nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The sharp click made us both flinch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Dad, I can’t change what happened with Mom.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But I can change what happens here.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry straightened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It means Lisa doesn’t have to beg for respect in her own home.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to hear those words.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper turned toward me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m sorry.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I kept asking Dad nicely because I didn’t want a fight. I thought I was keeping the peace.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His eyes met mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But you were the one paying for it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I couldn’t speak.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Oh, come on. All this over a little soup?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper turned back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No. Over you repeatedly ignoring my wife.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pointed toward the pot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She told you not to touch it. You did it anyway. Then you told her she had no say because this is my house.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Well, isn’t it?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper didn’t hesitate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry looked startled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“This is our home. Lisa’s and mine.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“And you don’t get to disrespect her in it.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For a moment, I thought Henry might apologize.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Instead, he grabbed his jacket.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“So that’s it? You’re choosing her over your own father?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper answered calmly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry’s face hardened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“After everything I’ve done for you?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper nodded toward the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You’re welcome here when you can treat Lisa respectfully. Until then, Sunday dinners are off.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I expected another insult.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he said nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He walked out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The front door closed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper stood beside the counter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The soup was still warm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But neither of us wanted it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked at the pot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m sorry about dinner.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’s not the soup.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I know.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He reached for my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I should’ve stopped this sooner.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I squeezed his fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No excuses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No argument.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just an apology.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We ordered sandwiches that evening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
About Helen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
About the dinners Jasper remembered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
About how easily a child can mistake silence for happiness.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper admitted he’d spent years thinking his mother enjoyed doing everything herself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She probably knew you loved her.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I hope so.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A week passed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry didn’t visit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then, the following Saturday, Henry called.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper answered on speakerphone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Could I come by tomorrow?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper looked at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
There was a long silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Henry answered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“All right.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sunday afternoon, the doorbell rang.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry stood outside holding a small paper bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For once, he didn’t walk straight toward the kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He waited.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Lisa,” he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I folded my arms.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Henry.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then back at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I owe you an apology.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I said nothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I shouldn’t have put my fingers in your food. And I shouldn’t have spoken to you like you had no right to tell me what to do.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“This is your home too.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper stayed quiet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry continued.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I kept telling myself Helen didn’t mind because she stopped arguing. But after I left here, I couldn’t stop thinking about what Jasper said.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I remembered all those dinners when she stood beside the stove while I ate. I don’t think I ever once asked her to sit down.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper looked at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry rubbed his hands together.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I got used to having things my way. And when Helen stopped complaining, I decided that meant she was happy.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Maybe I just didn’t want to hear otherwise.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper spoke gently.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She can’t tell us now, Dad.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I know.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry looked older suddenly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just tired.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I wish I’d asked her more often whether she’d eaten.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Nobody answered immediately.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he held out the bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Inside was a small framed photograph.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Smiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Wearing a faded yellow apron.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I found this yesterday,” Henry said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“She loved that apron.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jasper took the photograph carefully.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then Henry turned toward me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I know saying sorry doesn’t fix everything.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“No,” I answered. “It doesn’t.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He nodded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“But I’d like to do better.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then at Henry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then we’ll start with something simple.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I walked into the kitchen.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
A fresh pot of chicken soup was simmering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry stopped at the doorway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I almost smiled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Yes.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He approached the stove.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Smells good.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Thank you.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he asked, “Would you like me to help?”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I handed him a clean spoon.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You can start by tasting this properly.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He accepted it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
One spoonful.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And when dinner was ready, Henry didn’t reach for the pot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He waited while I filled the bowls.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then he pulled out a chair.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not for himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
For me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Henry looked at his soup.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Then at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Thank you for dinner, Lisa.”<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was a small thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But Jasper reached beneath the table and squeezed my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And wished she’d heard those words more often.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We couldn’t give her those Sundays back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But in my kitchen, nobody would have to earn respect by going without it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Enjoyed the read? Here is another story you will love: I thought the hardest part of visiting my husband’s grave would always be saying goodbye. But on the fifth anniversary of his death, I found a black bag beside his headstone. I almost walked away. Something made me reach for the zipper instead.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
My father-in-law waits until I turn my back, then sneaks into my kitchen and sticks his fingers into whatever I’m cooking. Soup. Gravy. Nothing is safe. He… <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":173,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-8114","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8114","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=8114"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8114\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8115,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8114\/revisions\/8115"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/173"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=8114"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=8114"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bzerbros.fun\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=8114"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}