Sunday, January 17, 2016

Day 17/366



"C'mon, Squirt. Let's get you cleaned up." Kyle reached out to hug his sister, then thought twice about getting the mysterious red blech on his clothes. He took her relatively clean hand instead.

All three children trudged up the stairs, shoulders slumped. Leslie flinched as she caught Ellie's stage whisper of, "What's the matter with Mom?"

...
"What's the matter?" Her jaw tightened enough to crack a tooth. "You want to know what's the matter?" Leslie's harsh words chased her kids up the staircase. "I'll tell you what's the matter," she grumbled, grabbing a handful of paper towels from the breakfast bar.

"It's finding your son doing God knows what on his computer. It's having a daughter with a memory so full of holes she can't remember what I've told her a thousand times." Leslie draped a few of the paper sheets over the growing pink puddle in the entryway.

Using her foot to maneuver the towels through the mess, she finished her solo diatribe with a verbal flourish. "And the icing on the cake of my day?" Her foot slid as she turned toward the stairs.

"Having to clean up your mystery mess while you feel free to criticize meeeee!"

Right foot flying wild, she grabbed at the oak coat rack but it shifted as she fell, coming down hard across the back of Leslie's head. Fade to black...

All words property of Deena Peterson and not to be used without permission.

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