The Mother Buffer
A Story Every Day in 2024 April 3rd 94/366
"Mum, can I stay in town after school? Me and my mates are going to play football on the field for a bit."
Jo thought about this. They were going away the next day which meant that she had packing to do and she really ought to make sure that all of the washing was done. Dinner, of course, needed to be cooked and then the washing up and the loading of the dishwasher. They had run out of milk so she had get that. She could really do with going home and getting on with things. She would leave work for school pick up and then it wouldn't be worth her going home because by the time she'd got home, she'd need to leave again. She'd be best to just hang around town and kill some time. Time that she didn't have. She supposed at least she would be able to get the milk from the supermarket on the main street. If she remembered. It might be nice to have a moment to herself although as she was thinking it, she knew that she would rather have that moment after everything that needed to be done was done. It would just be delaying the inevitable hurried rushing that awaited her.
Her son playing football would throw out her best laid plans but he wouldn't see his friends then for days. He'd been having problems with his friendships at school so to not allow him to go would be detrimental to that. She had hated seeing him distressed and reluctant to go to school.
What to do? Absorb the stress herself. She also knew that this would be largely discounted by the people around her because this was just what mums did.
The ultimate sponge or the Mother Buffer.
She envisioned her stress level, like a talent show clap-o-meter, where the act receiving the most appreciation from the audience would raise noise with applause and the act whose applause was the loudest would go through to the next round. A great reward.
Her "Stress-o-meter" was a-ring-a-ding-dinging. She could feel it reaching "Meteoric and Lightheaded" but taking a deep breath, she said to her son:
"Of course."
***
366 words
Is a ring-a-ding-dinging one word? Vocal's word counter says "Yes" and who am I to argue?
A slice of my life here for your perusal. It is not as tasty a slice as one from a chocolate cake.
Thanks for stopping by! If you do read this, please do drop a comment as I love to interact with my readers.
94/366
About the Creator
Rachel Deeming
Mum, blogger, crafter, reviewer, writer, traveller: I love to write and I am not limited by form. Here, you will find stories, articles, opinion pieces, poems, all of which reflect me: who I am, what I love, what I feel, how I view things.
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Comments (7)
Moms sacrifice so much and are so rarely thanked for all their troubles! Thanks for sharing a slice of life! I think I’ll call my mom this afternoon.
I'd love to read part 2 of this story (if there is any). You captured my attention with this interesting and well-written piece.
And then when & how do you find your release? For the sake of your children & all those about whom you care, how & where do release all that you have sopped up while buffering others?
Yeah parents sacrifice so much. I don’t think you realize this when you’re growing up and everything is ‘rubbish’! As always, you make everyday life sing and draw the reader in. That’s talent!
Love the title. Lol. This is a great slice of life. Well done.
A good reminder of the sacrifices that mother’s make that unfortunately go unseen. You definitely deserve applause, Rachel, and so does your writing!👏
Definitely not tasty, lol. I don't know why you do this to yourself but like all Mother's, you'd say it's what mothers do and that it brings you joy. And who am I to argue with that hahahhaa. I always advocate for doing what makes us happy, so yea. Like Ron said in Prisoner of Azkaban, "You're going to suffer but you're going to be happy about it" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣