When I was in elementary school from grade 2 to grade 5, every day at school was the worst day every. My mom would greet us on our front porch, the grass dappled with sunlight streaming though the tall american sweetgum trees that dotted our front yard.
During this time period, my mom's uniform was a permed bob coupled with a turtleneck tucked under some sweater. I hated her hair, but then, with my knotty hair and puffypainted shirt, it's not like I really had room to judge. It wasn't the perm that irked me, but the fact that i believed that all girls should have long, luxourious hair, like Barbie.
I remember running across the yard, dodging gumballs and cats, as my mom asked me "How was your day?". I, always with a flare for the dramatic, would crush up my face and wail "IT WAS THE WORST DAY EVER!! Everybody is so MEAN!!!". My mom would envelope me in a big hug, and my memories of day would dissolve, being replaced with the smell of coffee, tobacco and mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment