my momma. she’s pretty stellar. super supportive of my life choices even if she’s secretly going, what the crap, in her mind. she likes my humor and my ability to say random things out of the blue that also makes her go, what the crap…but that one is out loud. she loves the fact that i hate driving her car. she loves me. she kind of has to. but the other thing about my maternal unit is that she just effing knows things. she knows when we’re sick before we’re sick. she knows when i’m trying to creep up on her to give her another grey hair. she knows when i’m doing something bad.
and that’s what i’m worried about for when she and my dad get home tomorrow. that she’s going to assume i did something bad while i was home alone. granted, i’m 23, but she still scolds me like i’m 6. why am i worried about her assuming i did something bad?
because i decided to clean. hard core. my bathroom. the living room. the kitchen. there are no spare dishes around. i vacuumed (huge) in between the fucking cushions. my bathroom is spotless. i swiffered the floors. i used windex. i caught all the stinkbugs. i cleaned my dumb as dirt cat’s litter and food bowls. i put movies and blankets and shoes away. for no reason other than i didn’t feel like listening to her “why do i always have to come home to your mess?!” AND, most of the time she blames that mess on me when it is my dad. i get sick of hearing her, so i clean up after myself. but now i have to head off her, “what did she do that she’s trying to hide” thoughts because i did nothing wrong this weekend. luckily i’ll be in bed by the time they get home.
my best friend would like to add: “Or she’ll think you want something.”