Yesterday turned out to be a hard day, and the thing that put it over the edge was my mother giving me grief.
That woman can work a nerve like nobody’s business. And sometimes it’s like she can sense me being down and she just can’t resist kicking me.
Let me tell you something. If someone says to you “I’ve just got to say this” they’re not doing it to help you out. They’re doing it to get something off their own chest and make themselves feel better. To hell with you.
All this stuff I’m dealing with right now with Spawn and the problems at school is the stuff that’s uppermost on my agenda right now. Which is as it should be, since I’m the kid’s mother and my job as mother is to go to bat for my kid. I’m trying to get to the bottom of this. I’m trying to find out if there’s a reason the kid is acting this way. Is it a learning disability? Is it a brain thing? Hardly a moment goes by that it’s not on my mind.
And yet my mother felt it necessary to call me last night — after a long day at work, after a strenuous homework session, after a painful visit to the funeral home — to tell me that I had better be doing something about Spawn’s behavior. As if I’m sitting around whistling Dixie.
Ordinarily I’m able to take it, this badgering from my mother, but last night it hit me crossways. I just didn’t have the strength to fight it. It was the cherry on top of what had become a spectacularly awful day.
I love my mother. But sometimes she dumps on me and I don’t like her very much.