I’m wearied by her constant soul-searching.
“You’ve never loved me, have you?” she says.
Never enough, clearly.
“Other mothers…” she begins, but I reach for my coat.
I’m done here – I’ve a train to catch.
Had I been her father, I’d have demanded a DNA test, but there’s no disputing her birth. She was difficult, temperamental and needy from the start. There could never be enough of me for her, and confrontation was only ever a heartbeat away.
“You just didn’t have the “mother” button, did you?”
Maybe not… or if I did, perhaps you pressed it just too often…?
There’s something intriguing about the relationship between mothers and daughters, and this traditional domestic scene prompted a different take on the traditional mother-daughter relationship. Thanks to Rochelle, for her continued leadership of Friday Fictioneers.