The Sphinx in the Kitchen

Wednesday night at the Rodriguez house meant two things: the eternal spinach struggle, and Abuela treating family dinner like an interrogation chamber. I pushed the green stuff around my plate, thinking about how my life had basically become one long series of awkward situations I wasn't equipped to handle.

"Mija, you are sixteen now. Soon, college, then what?" Abuela's eyes narrowed like she was about to drop a riddle that would determine my fate. She had this uncanny ability to make simple questions feel like I was facing the sphinx itself—answer wrong, and I'd be devoured by disappointment and ancient expectations.

My phone buzzed. Jake, the cute guy from my bio class, had finally texted back after three days of radio silence. My stomach did that ridiculous fluttery thing, like I was twelve again instead of practically an adult. Meanwhile, my goldfish, Admiral Bubblebath, floated in his bowl on my dresser, living his best life with zero existential crises about GPAs or romantic tension.

"The spinach is not going to eat itself," Abuela announced, gesturing with her spoon like it was a weapon of cultural warfare.

"I'm just not hungry, Abuela."

"Hunger is not the point. The point is strength. The point is growing into someone who can face anything." She leaned in, suddenly serious. "Like the sphinx, you must have patience. You must have secrets. But most importantly, you must know what you want."

I looked at my phone, then at Admiral Bubblebath's vacant yet oddly peaceful expression through the kitchen doorway, then back at the spinach. Maybe Abuela was right—about the patience part, anyway. Maybe I didn't need to have everything figured out. Maybe the riddle wasn't about having the perfect answer, but about being okay with not knowing.

I took a bite of spinach. "Can I be excused? I have homework."

"And what about the boy?"

"We'll see."

"Good. The sphinx does not reveal everything at once."

I took my phone to my room, Abuela's laughter trailing behind me. Admiral Bubblebath swam to the front of his bowl like he knew something I didn't. Maybe I was the one overthinking everything while a goldfish had it figured out all along.