* Mother Talks *

It was 10:34 on Wednesday morning when Ms. G. looked at her watch and wrinkled her nose. Yesterday her daughter had called to ask if she could not come by on Wednesday to pick up her things. She hadn't heard from the girl for three weeks. Although it wasn't true. Ms. G. had found out the weekend before that her child was visiting her mother, Rosemarie, to check on everything.
You must know that Rosemary has cancer and had just finished her last chemotherapy. So it was appropriate that they should be taken care of.
How good that there was Ms. G.'s daughter, because she had hardly any time for her own mother, since the work was very tiring and the later sport and the many secondary activities were even more tiring.
But still something bothered her.
She felt something was wrong.
Another look at the clock, another wrinkling of the nose and Ms. G. was sure.
She knew her child very well, at least she believed it. How could it be otherwise, after all, she was her mother.
And so the suspicion grew in her.
The girl would definitely cancel again today!
A small vein formed on Ms. G's right temple.
She quickly picked up the phone and dialed her daughter's number.
She wanted to be sure that the girl wouldn't just cancel, after all, she was sacrificing her precious time for her and was considering even skipping her sports class for the child.
Long ring, Ms. G. thought that she was not answering the phone again, but then she heard the familiar click that indicated that it was picked up.
"Hey, Mom," it sounded tired and soft from the other side, so soft that the annoying background noise from buses and cars almost drowned it out.
Mrs. G. wrinkled her little nose for the third time, what was going on now?
This girl was always sick, or at least pretended to be sick, but at first it didn't matter. There were more important things to discuss.
"And, are you already on the way to see Omi?", She chirped happily into the phone.
Why played, the reader probably wonders ...
Well, Ms. G. was actually angry with her daughter, because she already knew exactly what was coming, but well brought up as she was and full of maternal affection for her child, she did not want to fall into the house immediately with the door and they scare. No, that wasn't shy either.
With people like this girl here you had to barricade the front door anyway and then sneak in secretly through the back door. There was no other way to get through to her.
It was briefly quiet on the other side of the line, except for the street noise.
Aha, caught, thought Ms. G., and was about to say something, really get started, how to do it, but then the girl spoke again, slowly, but she spoke."Uhm", it came to Ms. G.'s ear, "Mom, I'm not doing so well."
Mumble, what's that supposed to mean ?!
Can this thing never speak clearly?
Is it that hard?
No, it's not, you just open your mouth and speak. But she couldn't do that, despite the fact that her mother tried so hard to train her to speak correctly. You weren't allowed to speak slang, and you were allowed to speak Berlin? - Of course that wasn't possible! In the past she could at least punish the girl by banning television, but now that her daughter no longer lived with her, nothing worked.
Ms. G. had to watch the girl's language deteriorate with her and once again wondered what this child could do at all.
Yes, there was writing, but that was nothing. And just between us, Ms. G. found that her child couldn't even properly write a few lines on a piece of paper without making mistakes and without it sounding bad. She personally had never read the really good things, they were too brutal for her and who would want to read about death these days when it was lurking around every corner, but she definitely knew it, because the things she used to talk about When she found the time, looking over, were really nothing special.
To cut a long story short, Ms. G. was slowly getting really angry.
And that's why things really started now.
"But, you know, honey, I left my sports gear at home and brought the second helmet with me, I wanted to pick you up ..." she chirped again into the phone, careful as possible to chirp so as not to the person opposite to reveal that it is actually about to explode.
Oh, yes, what do you not do for your own flesh and blood?
You cancel appointments and sometimes sports courses, you risk being fired because the child has a temperature of 39 ° C for the third time in a row and is still too young to take care of himself. You go to parents' evenings and take on an extra job to keep yourself and the child afloat. You do so much, you sacrifice so much, and how are you thanked for it?
With reproachful looks because instead of 11 p.m. you came home from a disco at 1 a.m. With a moan when you finally get home from work at 7 p.m. and need a mother's break because the children at work were so loud again and you really need a rest.
God dammit! She wasn't a super mom!
The child also had to help with the household and learn to cook earlier than others if she wanted to eat something warm. This girl could be happy when she found the time to cook. But no, what did she do then, she wrinkled her nose. This brat wrinkled its nose and grumbled!
It was quiet again at the other end for a short time, as if the daughter could already smell the danger. For her part, she knew her mother, at least a little, and so chose her words carefully, well, she tried."Uhm, mom, I wanted to do all of this tomorrow. You know, I have an appointment anyway, then I can combine everything, and well, that's why I'm going to my one friend's house. I want to revise my applications and myself relax a little."
"Aha!" Thought Mrs. G.
There it was again, that damn excuse with the applications and saying that she wasn't doing well. Why does she even go to someone if she is not okay ?! If you are sick, you should stay in bed and sleep at home! You shouldn't celebrate or do anything else.
Just sleep and rest, and honestly, if the child was doing so well that she could happily go to a friend's house, then she could have kept all the appointments she made!
Rosemary was not doing well either. Could this girl never think of others ?!
Even when Ms. G.'s mother was in the hospital and Ms. G. was torn away at that time, of all times, the child was always moaning. She kept getting calls from her complaining about how terribly full the S-Bahn trains were just because a few trains had failed and that she could hardly breathe because you had to stand squashed in a wagon. How often she tried in these weeks to put claustrophobia and fear of human beings as a reason not to have to go to her grandma. In the end she left, but there was always such an exhausting fight between Ms. G and her daughter, where Ms. G. had to get almost all of her mother's and family weapons out.
The whole range from "She's always there for you" to "You owe it to her, after all, you've already caused a lot of stress to this woman" and of course the joker: "You know what you've done and you're happy be that we didn't report you! ", but sometimes Ms. G. had the feeling that even that wouldn't get her useless daughter to leave.
The girl on the other end was getting restless. Her mother hadn't said anything for a while, and that certainly didn't bode well for her.
Then, after another minute of silence, Ms. G. spoke again.
But this time it wasn't a chirping sound that jumped out of her mouth, but rather a mixture of contempt, disappointment and hurt, paired with a plume of alcohol that stank of anger.
"Do you actually know what I'm sacrificing for you ?!" she shouted into the phone.
"How can you ?! You think about yourself all the time! Josy here, Josy there! But not like that, Fraulein! If you ever want something from me again, you will please come today, or I will never see your damned again Pro- ", a click and the noise of the line cut her off.
The child had hung up.
Once again, her outburst of anger was successfully stopped by a breakup.
Ms. G.'s face took on the color of a tomato, her light brown eyes got more and more a yellow tinge and buzzed around in their eye sockets, furious.Well-meant a state in which one would rather not approach her or speak to her, because she then reacted very quick-witted and snappy. But also a state in which she had to let off steam, after all, she had to keep working, not everyone could be lying around as lazily on her skin as her daughter.
And so Ms. G.'s now slightly trembling fingers dialed the phone number of her lovable daughter, who was just so nice and had hung up to confront her again and discuss everything calmly and in a civil tone, or to scream. She wasn't sure what was better for her, even though her mood was more like screaming.
The doorbell rang again and Ms. G. held her breath. The girl could now dress warmly, because she was angry now, and one should never hang up once Ms. G. started to complain. Because that was disrespectful, and when she asked for something, be it right or wrong, it was the respect of her daughter for whom she has already done so much.

*end*