We always can be so short tempered
with our parents and not really realize all that they do for us. This past month
I happen to gain a lot of respect for my mom. As we received a phone call from
the Colorado hospital, we were informed that my great aunt had just had a
horrible stroke. At this moment my mom, as well as my grandparents, hopped in
the car and left for Denver, Colorado. My mom promised us they would be home
Monday (they left on a Thursday). Four
days without home cooked meals and house cleaning wouldn’t be so bad, I
thought. I have been home alone for a week before, and been completely fine.
However that wasn’t the case, with my dad and sister also home, stuff got out
of hand very very quickly.
It all started when my mom called
and told us that they doubt Aunt Judy would survive and they would have to stay
a day longer. It had only been tree days so far and I was sick and tired of
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. On top of that, laundry was piling up and
the house was a mess. I decided Tuesday night I would take matters into my own
hands and make dinner, well that didn’t work so well. So once again I am back
to PB and J.
On Monday my mom called and said
that she won’t be home anytime soon, for me the only issue was I was sick of
sandwiches, but for my sister it was more. My sister only being 11 started
bawling and that lasted the evening. My dad was stressed out at work, my sister
is upset, and I am just hungry…great. That next day my dad decided we would go
out to eat, which was a fantastic idea, until we realized that there were heaps
of laundry that hadn’t been done yet so we had to stay home and sort, wash,
fold, and sort more laundry…it was a fantastic time as you can imagine.
It is now Thursday and my mom has
left Colorado, due to be home on Friday. As relieving as this was, we needed to
do a ton of cleaning. The house had gotten so out of hand that it took two full
evenings of hardcore cleaning to restore it to its default settings. Finally on
Friday evening my mom arrived at home and asked the question she regrets
asking, “How did the week go?” As we all spill out different things that
happened and went wrong, and she simply responded, “So next time you get mad at
me because your favorite shirt isn’t washed yet, why don’t you think back to
this week.” Touché mom, touché. (WC 458)
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