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Amelia's mother was at her
wit's end.
Trying to get her out of the
door this morning was an absolute nightmare.
The feuding between her and a
couple of the other girls was reaching a crescendo and Mrs. Martin was just
about sick of it.
She had expected this sort of behavior
when Amelia was at primary school but now; she was older and meant to be more
mature.
Last night she had come home
in floods of tears. They had gone through another falling out and a lot of
name-calling.
Mrs. Martin had made her a
nice cup of chocolate...just like she liked it.
She had run her a bubble bath
and popped a hot water bottle in her bed.
When her father had come home
from work, he had gone straight upstairs to see his tear-stained daughter.
He had thoughtfully explained
that girls got like this...they could be bitchy, nasty and downright hurtful
sometimes.
He had stroked her long red
hair and had sung the little song that he used to sing to her when she was a
baby.
Now, this morning, she was in
a sulky mood and was in no hurry to get dressed and start the day.
Her mother, in an effort to
speed things up, volunteered to drive her...at least she would know that she had
got there all right.
Apart from actually following
her through the doors, Mrs. Martin could do no more than go home and make
herself a strong coffee...and worry.
She was glad that she had
bought Amelia a mobile phone, because at lunchtime, she received a phone call
from her daughter. Her mood appeared to have lifted a little, and she said that
she had made up with Chloe...they weren't talking to Claire or Ann though.
Mrs. Martin sighed and put
down the receiver. Honestly, these young girls nowadays, they made life
difficult.
Mrs. Martin popped to the
local store and ran into Chloe's mother. They stiffly passed the time of day and
enquired after each other's health. Neither one really caring how the other was
really.
The afternoon passed so slowly
that Mrs. Martin thought that she could actually see the world spinning on its
axis.
Late afternoon, the doorbell
went, and it was Amelia.
She walked in still pouting a
little, but a damned sight happier than she had been this morning.
Mrs. Martin popped the kettle
on and made a cup of tea.
It was good to see her little
girl smiling again. My God, nobody prepared you for the traumas of being a
parent.
You went through antenatal
classes to prepare you for pain...that was easy compared to this.
By the time Mr. Martin came
home from work, she had a migraine coming. Heavy music was pounding from
upstairs, and she was ready to sign herself in to an institution.
Her husband took one look at
her and said, "Amelia?"
Mrs. Martin nodded and put her
fingers in her ears to block out the awful din from her room.
Mr. Martin climbed the stairs
to his daughter's room and looked at her. Her tear-stained face looked back at
him, and it brought back all the memories of her little face...the day she had
started school.
He stroked her hair and sung
the little song to her that he had always sung. It was their special song,
nobody else was allowed in to that private room.
Soon, her eyes began to shut
and he tiptoed down the stairs to join his exhausted wife.
Mr. Martin took one look at
his poor wife and laughed despite himself.
"Oh darling," he said
good naturedly, "Nobody tells you this, do
they?"
Mrs. Martin smiled and said
that she was maybe glad that they'd only had the one child. She loved Amelia
unreservedly; of course she did...maybe she'd grow out of this one day.
A happy Amelia left the house
the next morning. Two friends came to call for her, and they walked along the
road...arms linked.
Amelia's mother had a great
day. Her daughter was in a happy state of mind, and life was good!
But alas, things have a habit
of rapidly changing.
At twelve midday, the front
door flew open, and in ran a white and trembling Amelia.
"What on earth...?"
began her mother, then wished she hadn't asked as her daughter went in to the
morning's occurrences. This one had said this to her...someone else had said
another thing to her. It was as bad as the previous day!
Mrs. Martin couldn't quite get
to the whys and wherefores of the situation and somehow managed to nod and make
sympathetic noises in the right places.
By the time Mr. Martin came
in, Amelia was in her room, the door firmly shut to all.
Just as Amelia's mother had
finished recounting the day's rows, Amelia emerged.
"Hi Dad," she called.
"Hello pumpkin," he answered.
"How was your day?"
"Oh, not bad...we've all
made up now" came the cheery reply.
Suddenly Mrs. Martin saw red.
She spent her life worrying about her daughter and now...apparently all was
great.
"My God Amelia!" she
shouted, stopping her husband and daughter in their tracks, "Isn't it about time that
you grew up a bit...I should be enjoying myself now, not spending all my spare
time worrying about you, you're not a little girl any more...grow up."
Amelia pouted at her mother,
then looked at her father and said, "Daddy..."
Mr. Martin looked away and
echoed his wife's words.
"After all dear," he
said, "Your mother and I aren't
getting any younger, we shouldn't have to be thinking about your welfare every
minute of the day...think about it."
Amelia looked from one to the
other and bowed her head.
"I think I know what you
mean," she said meekly,
"I'll try and be better,
really I will"
"Good girl" said her
father smiling at his only child
"Perhaps you could even
think about getting yourself a flat dear; after all, you are nearly thirty
now!"
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