The day I found me i also found my mother
After washing her hands, she glanced in mirror at her reflection as always.
Despite the fact that her face changed little, especially when she looked at it fifteen times a day, like the rest of us, she was unable to pass a mirror without looking. It was the same face, yet she spent hours examining the glass.
She first noticed the girl during a temper tantrum in 1980.
I want a BEDTIME SNACK.
No.
I WANT CHEEEESE.
No. Its time to sleep.
A LITTLE PIECE OF CHEESE!
Nooo….
She jumped Up and Down, Up and Down on the bed, bawling and howling.
BUT I’M HUUUUNGRY.
i said NO!
She did not want to go to sleep and sought a new diversional tactic for Mother. Mother was downstairs plain old ignoring her now. She shook her snotty fist and hollered some more until she noticed on her dresser, in the mirror, a little girl jumping up and down with her.
She stopped.
The girl stopped.
They looked at each other in amazement. Their faces were red as a squashed tomato and their nightgowns were flung sideways across their knees. They looked ridiculous. Anyone could see, especially a mother, that cheese would not solve the problem.
She climbed off the bed and walked over to the mirror for a closer look at the girl. It was the first time they had met. She had a good look, watching until her eyelashes dried and dairy products were forgotten.
Just when they were about to speak, one of the girls got sleepy and climbed into bed. The other girl followed reluctantly.
It was always this same face that returned to the mirror, yet she spent twenty-four more years examining the curved elfin eyes and expectant look.
Was she trying to see herself as others do? Was she trying to imagine herself older, remember herself younger? Wondering what she looked like sleeping? Smiling to fool strangers?
Her internal clock told her it was the time to dry her hands and leave the toilet. 5 minutes ago. But the elf in the mirror waited patiently for a response. The eyes were friendly with a hint of dare and disdain.
One of them was a spy for mother.
Despite the fact that her face changed little, especially when she looked at it fifteen times a day, like the rest of us, she was unable to pass a mirror without looking. It was the same face, yet she spent hours examining the glass.
She first noticed the girl during a temper tantrum in 1980.
I want a BEDTIME SNACK.
No.
I WANT CHEEEESE.
No. Its time to sleep.
A LITTLE PIECE OF CHEESE!
Nooo….
She jumped Up and Down, Up and Down on the bed, bawling and howling.
BUT I’M HUUUUNGRY.
i said NO!
She did not want to go to sleep and sought a new diversional tactic for Mother. Mother was downstairs plain old ignoring her now. She shook her snotty fist and hollered some more until she noticed on her dresser, in the mirror, a little girl jumping up and down with her.
She stopped.
The girl stopped.
They looked at each other in amazement. Their faces were red as a squashed tomato and their nightgowns were flung sideways across their knees. They looked ridiculous. Anyone could see, especially a mother, that cheese would not solve the problem.
She climbed off the bed and walked over to the mirror for a closer look at the girl. It was the first time they had met. She had a good look, watching until her eyelashes dried and dairy products were forgotten.
Just when they were about to speak, one of the girls got sleepy and climbed into bed. The other girl followed reluctantly.
It was always this same face that returned to the mirror, yet she spent twenty-four more years examining the curved elfin eyes and expectant look.
Was she trying to see herself as others do? Was she trying to imagine herself older, remember herself younger? Wondering what she looked like sleeping? Smiling to fool strangers?
Her internal clock told her it was the time to dry her hands and leave the toilet. 5 minutes ago. But the elf in the mirror waited patiently for a response. The eyes were friendly with a hint of dare and disdain.
One of them was a spy for mother.
posted by Camille at 9:54 pm
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