Page 31 of Hot Four Teacher
“It just seems so pointless.”
Our mom, who is also sitting on the bleachers with us, jumps in. “Ronnie, you know you don’thaveto come.”
“I know, but think how absolutely boring it would be without me here. You guys might quite literally go crazy.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I mumble. “You know, you better get used to this. I’m sure Colton is going to start doing sports soon, and you’ll be on the hook for all of those games.”
Mom adds, “And practices.”
I nod. “Yep. I’ve probably done drop off to thousands of practices over the years.”
I love giving Ronnie shit about being a stepmom. Even though she and Drew aren’t legally married, she loves that kid so much. It only seems right that I bust her balls, though, since she’s never been a kid person.
She says, “Eh, Colton doesn’t have the best hand-eye coordination, so I might be off the hook.”
Mom asks, "How's his foot-eye coordination? Because that’s what you need for soccer.”
That bursts my sister’s bubble a little bit, but she just moves right along.
“So, Mich, did you tell Mom that you met a boy?”
A flash of excitement crosses over our mother’s face, but she immediately shuts it down. “Oh.”
That’s all she says.
Oh.
Ronnie and I exchange a confused look.
I say, “Uh, yeah. We really hit it off the other night. I got drunk, he saw me naked, and I threw up–not in that order.”
Mom just nods.
“Okay, Suzanne, what’s wrong with you?” Ronnie asks.
Mom whips her head around at the use of her first name but still doesn’t say anything.
“Yeah, Mom,” I agree. “I know you and Ronnie were talking about me and my love life. We will discuss that later, but I thought that this recent development would make you happy.”
Avoiding eye contact, she replies, “I want you to be happy in whatever it is you decide to do in your life.”
Ronnie and I both start cackling because our mother hasneverbeen shy about giving us her opinion. Although she knows we won’t always listen, she made sure to give us her two cents.
Growing up, we had two incredible parents who were wildly in love–but extremely different.
Our dad was always the more affectionate one. He was the most patient, and he always hyped each one of us up.
While our mom wasn’t always the most feel-good, she told us what we needed to hear–even when it wasn’t what wewantedto hear. She may only be five-foot in stature, but the woman would go to war for us, and she’d be the one leading the whole damn army. She’s the mosttake no shitwoman I’ve ever met. Raising five strong-willed kids and running a bar has made her a total badass.
“Mom,” I say. “Spill it. What’s going on?”
She’s quiet long enough that I think she’s just ignoring me. When I’m about to change thesubject, she blurts, “Your dad thinks that I meddle too much.”
“Ohhhh,” Ronnie and I say in unison.
Ronnie goes on, “Now, it all makes sense.”
“Jo got mad at me for trying to give her advice, but I was just trying to stop your little sister from making a dumb decision. Your dad took her side and told me I interfere too much in your lives.”
