Maj is sitting in the living room, tapping at the window, “Mother, I fear there is a strange illness afoot.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“Remember that time you exploded a potato in the microwave?”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“It’s like a window-display of death over here.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“I’m probably breathing contagion-scourge right this instant.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
She leans in to look at the window more closely, “Have you seen these flies stuck to the glass? They’re dead, but they’re weird-dead. It’s like they were standing there and then suddenly their insides became their outsides and they were still just standing there . . . in their insides.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“When someone says . . . He blew a gasket . . . does that mean that the person exploded in rage?”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“Did you know some people call a baked-potato skin a jacket?”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“If you think of your person-skin as a jacket, it is easy to get creeped out at the thought of it exploding off of you.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“I think these flies exploded.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“I think there is a rage-illness afoot, and I think these flies blew their jackets.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“MOTHER!”
“What?”
“Mother, you are approaching absolute zero on the involved-mothering scale.”
“Yes, well . . . absolute zero has its advantages, including my complete disinclination to care about my apathy.”
“Disinclination is not a word.”
“Yes, it so is . . . Oooh, mothering points for me! I am building your vocabulary as I apathize.”
“Apathize is not a word.”
“True. If I wasn’t all filled with apathy, I could probably get all worked up about its non-word status.”
“So you’re just going to ignore me?”
“I’m not ignoring you . . . A baked-potato skin is called a jacket and it explodes in the microwave if too much pressure builds up and there are apparently exploded flies stuck to the window and you hypothesize that they have exploded because of some mysterious contagious rage illness that causes one to “blow a jacket” . . . a phrase you feel should replace the antiquated “blow a gasket” and I am a failure as a mother and disinclination is a word and apathize is not but it’s not worth getting all worked up about.”
“Well, that’s just annoying.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“A lucky guess is what that was.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“I’m going to check on Kallan.”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“Because somebody should be doing some mothering around here.”
“Good luck with that.”
And then from the other room, I hear Maj, “Kallan, Mother told me to come in here and supervise your snack eating and OH MY GOD YOU ARE EATING ABOUT A POUND OF CHEETOS!”
Kallan’s voice is mild, “Mommy said I could have a handful.”
“WHOSE HANDFUL? DID THE HULK GET YOU CHEETOS? YOU HAVE FAR TOO MANY CHEETOS! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE IN THE EXTREME!”
“Maj, come here . . . I’ll show you . . . it’s not as many as you . . .”
“AIIAIIEIEEEEEE!! YOU TOUCHED ME WITH CHEESE SPIT! I HAVE BEEN CHEESE SPAT! THE SPAT OF CHEESE IS UPON ME! I AM DOOMED!”
“I didn’t touch you. I just licked my cheesy finger and then went like . . .”
“MOTHER, THE SPAT OF CHEESE IS TWICE UPON ME!”
“Mmm hmmm.”
“MOTHER, PARENT THE VICINITY! I DEMAND THAT YOU PARENT THE VICINITY!”
I point at Kallan, “Behave, Kallan.”
Kallan waves from behind Maj, “Got it.”
“UNACCEPTABLE! SUBSTANDARD PARENTING, MOTHER! I DEMAND THAT YOU STEP UP TO ADEQUATE! I DEMAND ADEQUATE PARENTING!”
“Here’s some parenting for you . . . stay out of your sister’s business.”
“I WILL DO THE BEST I CAN BUT IF I WALK TO WHERE SHE IS EATING AND I SEE THAT SHE IS TAKING MORE CHEETOS WHEN SHE HAS ALREADY HAD AN UNSEEMLY AMOUNT OF CHEETOS IT IS MY JOB TO INTERJECT AND POINT OUT THAT . . .”
“Hey, Maj?”
“What, Kallan?”
“Here. This is for you.”
“AIEIIEEEEEE! THE YOUNG ONE HAS WIPED CHEESE SPITTLE ON MY BLOUSE, MOTHER! A LIQUID THAT WAS ONCE IN HER BODY IS NOW UPON MY BEING AND UPON MY CLOTHING AND THE SPITTLE ACIDS ARE EATING THEIR WAY INTO MY SOUL! MY GARMENTS ARE CHEESE-SPATTLED AND RUINED FOREVER AND I MAY NOT LIVE TO TELL THE TALE EXCEPT FOR THIS MOMENT HERE WHERE I AM TELLING THE TALE BUT AFTER THIS I WILL SURELY PERISH!”
“Maj, give me a break.”
“DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE, MOTHER? CONTROL THE YOUNG ONE OF CHEESE SPATITUDE! IS THIS HOW IT IS GOING TO END? I AM TO GO OUT IN AN INFESTATION OF THE MOST UNSANITARY SORT? IS THIS HOW YOU DREAMED IT WOULD BE, MOTHER? ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?”
“Oh, for god’s sake. Calm down.”
“I CANNOT BE CALM! I WILL NOT BE CALMED! I HAVE BEEN CHEESE-SPAT! I HAVE BEEN SOILED AND CHEESE-SPAT AND RUINED!”
Kallan appears in the doorway, “Mom, all I did was wave cheesy hands in her general vicinity.”
Maj waves crazed Vanna White hands of presentation and entreaty around her orange-fingered sister, “PARENT THIS VICINITY, MOTHER! I DEMAND THAT YOU PARENT THIS VICINITY INTO SUBMISSION! DO IT DO IT DO IT DO IT! ACT IN MY BEST INTERESTS, MOTHER!”
“Kallan, stop torturing your sister.”
Kallan snorts, “Tell her to stay out of my business.”
I turn to Maj, “Stay out of your sister’s business.”
“THAT’S IT? THAT’S ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY?” Maj bends and swings her arm in an angry circle around her feet, “THIS IS THE LEVEL OF YOUR PARENTING. YOUR PARENTING IS SWISHING AROUND MY ANKLES, MOTHER. LIKE A PUDDLE! I REQUIRE A DELUGE, MOTHER!”
I stare at her, “You require a parenting deluge?”
“I REQUIRE A DELUGE!”
I am about to say something wise and parental and defusing, but then Kallan licks noisy cheese from her fingers and says, “Geez, Maj. Don’t blow your jacket.”
That did not go over well.
BOOM!
