Mother’s Mumbling (2)

Nov 11, 2017

N

Ages 8 and up

 

Mother’s Mumbling (2)

Nov 11, 2017

N

Ages 8 and up

 

“Morning Doodlebug,” his mom said in her sing-songy voice as he made his way down the dark oak stairs. Doodlebug… Will wished his Mom wouldn’t call him that so much. He used to like it, but he was older and now it was just kinda embarrassing. “Why are you so dressed up?” she said. “You got plans?”

“Nah, not really,” Will lied. He took a moment to eye his mother, just to get a better feel for her attitude. It seemed the same old exaggerated sort of cheerful. That was good. She bustled about back in forth through the kitchen talking to herself, straightening the hand towels and sorting the newly washed glasses. She was a round sort of woman, with short blond curls that had begun to show their first frosts of gray. Her eyes were the same green as Will’s, but her smile. It was large and full, and far more infectious than his.

“Whatcha want for breakfast,” she said. “Cereal maybe? Pop-tarts? Sorry, but I don’t have time to make pancakes or anything thanks to the extra errands your father wants me to run. You know it’s a busy time for us.”

It was always a busy time.

“No, that’s fine,” Will said. “Cereals fine. Mellow Maties or fruity O’s or whatever.”

Will’s mother shuffled off toward the pantry to prepare to get the box. He stayed silent as she set out his utensils, poured his Fruity O’s and set the milk carton beside the blue trimmed bowl. Will added in his milk and began the crunch bite after bite of his cereal as his mom slipped back into the pantry. He bit his lip to get ready.

“Um, Mom…” he said. “You think, um, maybe today I could, uh go outside? Like, in the woods or something?” He tried to sound casual.

His mother froze in place, slowly peeked her head from the pantry, and gave him a sympathetic frown. “Oh Honey, you know that’s not a good idea. It hasn’t really even warmed up yet. You just need to wait a bit longer.”

“But Mom, look,” he said with a short tug to his long sleeve shirt, the one with the flaming soccer ball.

“I’m sorry but no, I just care too much for you. You know I can’t stand to see you sick.”

“Mom, I never get sick.”

“Well, that’s because we make good decisions on when you go outside,” she said.

“I just don’t see why it’s a big deal. Even if I did get sick. I’ve been stuck in our house forever. I wanna get out, Please?”

“No.”

“Please,” Will changed his tone to a forceful demand.

“No,” his mom responded equally loudly.

“This isn’t fair.”

His Mother stood and stared at him. For a moment, Will could swear she was going to say something else, but eventually, she just shook her head and turned away, tossing the tan towel she’d draped across her shoulder toward the sink. As she fluttered across the kitchen he heard her mumble something strange.

“Two days till Neptinox,” she said. It didn’t really make sense but he was sure he’d heard her right.

“What did you say?”

“hmm? Nothing. Nothing important.” His mother looked flustered. She shook herself ever-so-slightly and put on a bright new smile. “Listen Honey, if you can just wait a few more days, till Tuesday, I’m sure it’ll be warm enough then and you can go out. You’re father might even be able to take you into the woods.”

“I don’t need Dad,”

“Yes you do—”

“No, really I don’t. Mom I’m ten.”

“Doodlebug, you’re nine. You’re growing up fast, but you’re not as big as you think.”

Will let his spoon clink back into his bowl. She didn’t understand. She would always think of him as a baby. But she was wrong. He could handle it, and soon he’d prove it. Tuesday, he’d have to wait till Tuesday.

What is Will’s mother’s favorite hobby?

Making cookies

Knitting and cross-stitch

Playing the piano

This Poll is Closed

 

What does Will’s father look like?

Tall and strong

Short and fat

This Poll is Closed

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