On one of those mornings,

I reluctantly dragged myself out of my warm, cozy bed, the familiar sound of my mom’s relentless phone calls echoing through the house like a morning alarm. The shrill tones of her conversations often made me cringe, and today, I could sense the tension in her voice—it was probably going to be one of those mornings.

"Hey, get your ass down here!" she bellowed, her voice slicing through the morning air like a knife.

With a resigned sigh, I trudged down the narrow staircase, the wooden steps creaking under my weight. I arrived at the dining table and settled into my usual spot, the chair’s slight wobble a small comfort in the chaos around me. As I began to spoon cereal into my mouth, I couldn’t help but steal a glance at my mom. Her brow furrowed and lips pursed, she was glaring at me as if I were the source of her irritation. The sight was almost comical, and I felt a smirk creeping onto my face as I munched on my breakfast.

“Mum, don’t you think people get shorter tempers as they get older?” I ventured, my voice dripping with playful sarcasm. The look she shot me could have burned through steel.

Undeterred, I pressed on, “Oh, by the way, I’m staying over at Kaelin’s tonight.” With an exaggerated flick of my wrist, I dropped my spoon into the bowl, signaling my intention to escape the breakfast battleground.

“No parties with Kaelin, El!” she shouted after me, her irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

I hesitated for a brief moment, weighing my options—should I stand my ground, or retreat to the safety of my room? The question hung in the air, but before I could decide, she muttered under her breath, “Well, when do you ever listen to me?” A low chuckle escaped me as I made my way up to my sanctuary, delighting in the small victory over her annoyance.

Just then, my phone buzzed, the vibration sending a thrill of excitement through me. I fished it out of my pocket to read the message from Kaelin: “All black, buddy.” A grin spread across my face as I envisioned our plan for the evening, and with a renewed sense of anticipation, I bounded up the stairs to my room, ready to embrace whatever the day had in store.

Since Dad passed away, Mum has become increasingly irritable, reacting to even the smallest of annoyances. The once vibrant conversations she used to have have transformed into endless phone calls that seem to drain her energy and, on occasion, plunge her into a sour mood. As the CEO of a large corporation, the pressures and responsibilities weigh heavily on her without Dad being around anymore, adding to the stress of managing her grief. The relentless demands of her job pitch her into a whirlwind of decision-making and endless meetings, leaving little room for the emotional support she truly needs during this difficult time.