“Magenta roses!” she exclaims as I step off the bus. “My favorite!”
“Ma’am, have we met?” I ask.
“No,” she says. “But it was fun to pretend to be the lucky lady.”
That evening, my mother reaches for her second best vase, then remarks, “Your brother got me opera tickets.”
Joanna Norland is a writing coach, playwright, mother of two and mom blogger at mumswrite.com. With just enough spare time on her hands to scribble fifty fictional words a month and read two fifty word stories a day.
Perfect.
thank you !!
The tone here. Exquisite.
thank you!!
Joanna — We must have had the same mother… ouch.
Good job, well written.
thank you! My actual mom is nothing like this, but I know how damaging parental judgement can be.
I could hear your mother do that irritating little ‘sniff’ before she spoke.
LOL! now i can hear it, too.
Such a precisely written piece. So good!
high praise! Thank you.
I could not love this more. Brilliant. Yes, next time give her the roses :)
Great question – how can I metaphorically ‘give her the roses’ today?