The sound of mom vacuuming and singing lured me out of my bedroom. Mom loves to clean when she’s been drinking and usually she gets tipsy enough to listen to music and dance. I love to watch her hips sway left to right in her tight dresses, my eyes fixate on her neckline as she leans over to get under the sofa and she sings, vacuums, and trips over her heels. The scotch glass she was drinking from falls to the floor and shatters into a thousand pieces. She gasps, her eyes wide in horror as she realizes that Dad’s antique glass is shattered. She calls out for me.