Peace and Quiet
It was 3 days before Mother’s Day and the dreaded “what do you want for Mother’s Day this year, Mom?” was driving Liz crazy. Between her ungrateful teenage brats and her cheating husband, she did not care if she saw another Mother’s Day. She had had enough.
This year, the little cannibals and her boring husband suggested that they take her out to brunch.
“Oh, hell, no! I will not be caught dead in a dress with a tacky corsage, sitting in a booth with you people, watching fat women at the buffet table stuffing their faces. And besides, your table manners are horrendous! Heaven knows I busted my ass trying to teach you how to eat!”
“Okay, Mom. You win. What do you want for Mother’s day?” the youngest monster asked.
“Why do you think you have to get me anything at all? After all, you all think that I am a horrible mother, so why bother?” she responded sarcastically, glaring at the little troll.
“Because if we don’t get you something, we’ll never hear the end of it!” piped up the oldest brat (and Liz’s least favorite offspring).
“Okay, how about you all just give me some simple peace and quiet that day? Sound good to you?” While her oldest freak of nature tried to ignore the ringing in his ears, Liz’s youngest tyrant began to lose interest, but remained motionless, despite his desire to escape his mother’s inevitable tirade.
“Huh?” was the reply from her rocket-scientist husband. Not too bright, she was hoping that he would smarten up later in life, but her hopes faded while she watched him spend his weekends watching NASCAR instead of attending business seminars.
“Just some freaking peace and quiet! Is that too much to ask for?” Liz screeched, her eyebrows so close by this point that they almost met, creating a unibrow, just like Ernie on Sesame Street, the youngest thought, and he began to smile.
“Jeez, what the hell are you grinning at? I swear, you must be retarded or autistic or something, you’re always grinning at nothing. Maybe we should get your ass tested and take you to Vegas, so you can support me for a change, what do you think of that, you little brat?”
Liz turned to her oldest, realizing that he is looking too happy and snarled, “I am tired of listening to your loud music, you ungrateful brats! We bought you headphones, use them! And when was the last time that you cleaned your rooms or did you own laundry? And when are you going to get jobs and help out around here?” She was starting to rant.
Liz was no longer making much sense and the kids knew it, but they were used to it by this time. Especially the nonsense about getting a job, seeing as the boys were only 13 and 15 years old.
“Just some peace and quiet for 24 hours and we’ll call it the best Mother’s Day ever!” Liz exclaimed, then mumbled something about wishing that every day was Mother’s Day.
“Fine with me, I’m outta here, said her other half, as he started walking out of the room. I have things to do today, catch you later” and he was gone, the back door closing quietly behind him.
“What a pussy, she thought to herself. He can’t even slam a door. How did I end up married to such a freaking wimp?”
“Whatever”, said the oldest terror, following by an echoing “yea, whatever” from the youngest one as they skidded past her and out the back door.
“Yep, no child left behind, that’s my motto. Get out of my house!” she yelled behind them, knowing that they could not hear it, but yelling it anyway.
As Mother’s Day grew closer, Liz looked forward to her day of peace and quiet with great anticipation.
“No loud music, no kids running around bothering me, expecting me to feed them constantly, wash their clothes, pick up after them, take them to school, pick them up, take care of them when they are sick, buy their clothes, listen to their bullshit problems, who cares! And my husband, what an ass! I know he’s been cheating on me, he never kisses or touches me anymore and I swear that he never hears a word that I say. I keep trying to tell him what a loser he is and how he needs to grow up, but he won’t listen. He’s worse than those bratty kids that he thinks that he fathered. What a chump” — .she mused while she got ready for bed.
The day finally arriving, Liz woke up with a smile on her face.
“Just a day to myself, everyone else can go to Hell,” she thought.
Just as she was walking into the bathroom to brush her teeth (I wonder if that asshole remembered to put the cap on the tube this time — probably not), they walked into the room.
“Yep, smiling like The Three Stooges, the three of them sharing an abnormal brain, I am so proud!” She thought to herself and smirked.
Carrying a cup of coffee, her idiot husband handed it to her and said “Happy Mother’s Day!”
“Great. Another cup of his coffee, when is he ever going to learn to make it the way it is supposed to be made? He never gets it right, it’s always too weak, she thought, but accepted it, being careful not to display any positive emotion.
But here he was, with a huge grin on his face, so proud. He reminded her of a 2 year old, beaming with delight at his first successful bowel movement into the grown-up toilet.
Knowing that he probably left coffee grounds on the counter (or spilled them on the floor), she grudgingly accepted the coffee and mumbled “thanks.”
Her teenage terrors also had to submit their two-cents’ worth, chiming in, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! We hope you enjoy your peace and quiet today!”
Already half-way turning into the bathroom, kept walking and did not respond.
“Didn’t I tell those disgusting alien creatures that all I wanted today was some peace and quiet? Can’t they listen to me for once?” she thought, as she sipped her coffee, not noticing the bitter almond aftertaste.
