(This is Part Two of our story. Click here to read Part One if you haven’t already.)
“Mom! I killed people! I watched them die. I heard them scream. I watched life….just…gone, Mom.”
My son’s crying was loud enough now that it disguised my own. His was due to the horror of war tearing away his humanity, his innocence. Evil had sneered its deplorable face in battle and scared his heart.
I looked down at my To-Do list. Done.
Everything was crossed off. There wasn’t a single chore or task that I had left to do. I had accomplished everything that needed to be done. Continue reading “A Mother’s Dream”
“It was horrific, Mom.”
My son sat slumped on a chair in the dining room, while I worked at getting him some tea.
“I don’t know if I can explain what I saw…or what I did.”
I stared blankly in front of me, trying to work the frog out of my throat. I had heard words like that before. Not from my son, but from my father and my husband.
“I killed people, Mom.” Continue reading “What’s A Mother To Do?”
She never had any reason to celebrate Mother’s Day. Her Mom died in a car accident when she was three; her grandmothers, long before that. Mom had brothers and Dad is an only child, so no Aunts either.
Growing up, the days leading up to Mother’s Day were torturous. She was forced to make whatever craft her school teachers had planned that year. They all insisted, “There must be someone you can give it to.” There wasn’t. Continue reading “A Different Mother’s Day”
“Mrs. Griffon is so hot, dude.”
“Dude, gross. That’s my mom.”
“Since when did your mom become a teacher?”
“She’s always been a teacher.”
“Oh. That’s hot.”
“Brian, stop it. Stop creeping on my mom.”
“What? I can’t help it. Just look at her.”
That was the moment I decided that I wanted to punch Brian in the face. Continue reading “Back To School Troubles”
“From here to the British coast.”
“What? You can’t swim the whole Atlantic Ocean! Are you insane?”
“No, why can’t I?”
