Poster Child
I really don’t know what has overcome me. Seems like only yesterday I remember being on tippy-toes, barely reaching over the sink washing up all the dishes to see the grin on my mom’s face. I was as close as you get to one of those kids in a commercial recorded back in the 80’s -too happy, too fake. But it wasn’t fake, I was content to the extreme. I had enough for the smile across my face to emerge naturally. Where am I now? Right now I solely get irritated by what seems a prolonged conversation. I can’t help but feel invaded of my precious time. As if though I don’t have enough time. Sometimes I feel that I have no time for anything, why should I feel that way I don’t know. I am young, and I feel like I have too much on my shoulders, but in all reality it’s not half the reality. Tonight was an odd goodnight bid. After searching high and low for my charger to my cell phone, I gave up. My mother then “sawr it” (as my British father would say). She handed it to me “Is this it?” Definitely. She joked around with me, saying that since I found it she deserves a kiss. Keep in mind I’m 20 years old-which to tell you the truth doesn’t mean shit. Kisses for your mom, should not matter what age you are!-and that’s just a common sense rule. But being in the bad mood that I was, I shrugged and shook my head, mumbled. She’d questioned why, I had no answer-I was just having one of my tantrums I guess. I’m sure I probably broke her heart, and I’m sorry mommy-I love you to death no matter how many meaningless arguments we get into-I’m just feeling a bit hardheaded right now that’s all. Lately, I’ve been nothing but a smart mouth. I tell myself I shouldn’t be that way, but for some reason or another I can’t help it. Sometimes I can’t stand the least bit of affection. My sister goes to rest her head on my shoulder, and I push away. I need something to get me through this. I know it’s only the feeling of being alienated. The whole discussion of that person not being proud of me going into music-my mother. It was very hard on me when she confessed to me, that when people ask what her daughter’s studying, she gets embarrassed to say, and more so terrified of the feedback she would receive. Once again, I can’t go a different way if I’m being driven through what makes me in high spirits. After going to a dashboard confessional show, and feeling a part of his pleasure when he called out to his mom from across the stage, I could just see myself doing the same, having my mom smiling back at me while I cry my poor little heart out on stage. Needless to say, that image has faded just a tad. My mother gets the same feeling from music, when she hears the singer-it’s like your almost being taken away. I recall sitting around listening to Patsy Cline’s - “whos sorry now” on the radio, and my mom telling me-see now if you could sing like her, I must have been about 13 err so.. I had this “feeling” as though I was told not to pass on a secret, but was about to explode. I felt like saying , “Mom, I can sing this song, you should hear me” and I know that when I make it big, I will sing this song for her and only her-and you know what, I think she’ll be proud of me.