"That you always have to dawdle!" Scolded a brown-haired middle-aged woman who turned out to be my mother.

"It wasn't just like this today. It's always like this!" she continued her ranting. "Take an example from your big brother Georg, he only needs a few minutes to get up. But you grumble in your room for half an hour. That can't work. Are you even listening to me?"

I looked up from my homework and looked at my mother, who was standing at the kitchen table, her hands on her hips.

"Yes," I replied curtly.

This statement seemed to be enough for her and turned back to resume her work. There was a quick click of the knife, which hit the board as it cut through the vegetables. It stopped for a moment when she brushed a few strands of hair from her face, but resounded again immediately afterwards.

"And that you can never be home on time after school and never keep the time that you are told beforehand. You know that your father and I have a lot to do at the moment. The time between some appointments is very short, you can't afford to be half an hour late. That you could hurry up to take care of your little sister isn't too much to ask, is it? "

I grumbled in agreement. A rhetorical question that did not require an answer. As usual...

She put the sliced ​​cucumber and lettuce leaves in a bowl. Small pieces of pepper followed. I lowered my gaze to my copybook again.

"And that you had to dawdle shopping again today. Did I teach you that you always do that? Or are your friends like that too and you imitate them to be as" cool "as they are?"

"No."

"You should really change your point of view on this matter. Otherwise you will never be anything. How are you going to explain that to your boss?If that happens more often, they'll label you as unreliable and look for a new one rather than let you continue to work. This is really not a good thing. "

"Hmm."

Suddenly a scream rang out to my right and winced in shock.

"Oh Sarah," said my mother, rushing over to my little sister. I totally forgot that she was still in the room. I discovered a small fabric duck on the floor a meter away from the children's chair. Apparently her Bibi, the duck had become too boring and she was looking for attention again.

My mother had hugged her and was rocking her lightly to calm her down. She didn't succeed.

"I think she was in the diaper. Could you please go up to her room and get a fresh diaper?"

"Sure, no problem," I said of myself.

I grabbed my crutches that were leaning against the wall next to me and used them to pull myself into an upright position. I hobbled out of the kitchen on one leg.