Everything looked different

‘It’s all a matter of perspective,’ she said. And that was that. Her final words on the subject. Bang! Down came the shutters, just the way they always do. Discussion over. She turned her back on me and busied herself at the sink, running a bowl of hot water to wash one mug and a teaspoon. Rich that. It’s her who’s always on about not wasting the world’s resources and turning the heating down and nagging me to put the paper out for recycling. As usual, it’s do as I say not as I do.

I wish I was older. Eighteen. Then she wouldn’t be able to talk to me like that. She only does it because she thinks I’m still a child. I wish I was older, that I didn’t have to be here. If I was eighteen I could talk back and it wouldn’t matter because I could leave if I wanted. If only I had my own place I’d have the freedom to throw her stupid phrases back at her, argue with her about what exactly she means by perspective, challenge her about her own, make her listen for once. She could like it or lump it and it wouldn’t matter to me because there wouldn’t be that whole while you’re living under my roof thing going on, and I’d know I could walk out the door whenever I chose. Of course I’m not an adult yet, and I’ve no place of my own, and the tiny amount I earn working at the café wouldn’t be enough to rent a cardboard box never mind a flat. Anyway, I’m not quite ready to leave. Not yet.

Come to think of it what did she mean by perspective? I only asked if I could go to the cinema with my friends and then that got us into the whole you haven’t done your homework thing, and your room’s a mess, and then she launched into the usual what are you going to do with your life lecture. And then because she’d run out of steam, she threw in that whole perspective thing.

So I have to put up with being told that I’m at that age when my racing hormones make me incapable of rational thought or making decisions for myself. Then out come those words again. 'You're grounded.' And I wish she wouldn’t say that, because frankly, grounded in its truer context is exactly what she’s not. Oh, Mother!