What My Mother Forgot

What My Mother Forgot: 4th - 6th Grade

I attended a newly founded charter school.

It was an old administration office that sat in the shadow of a then long-defunct mental hospital.

The whole thing was a big deal.

They even built a new road for it.

It was close to my Mother's work. Yet, we'd just moved a half-hour away.

And her workday started an hour before my school day.

To be at work on time, she had to drop us off at Latchkey, but she never was on time.

For two reasons:

My little brother is impulsive and self-absorbed. He does not like rules or to follow directions, and he requires constant intervention. 

And my mom? 

She hates to wake up early.

It was a volatile combination, and the result was her fury.

No matter what I did, 

I never moved fast enough.

Every day, we'd pile in the car, and she would spend the next half hour screaming at us and banging the steering wheel.

"You always make me late!"

One time I was brave.

"I was ready on time."

Her retort?

"Yeah, but were you in the car, seatbelt on, ready to go?!"

You see, most mornings, I got myself up and was ready with time to spare.

I'd doze on the couch while my Mom chased after my brother. 

Now, my Mother, she hates the cold.

Back then, she would go out to our detached garage and warm up the car.

And I was usually ready by the time she went out to do that.

So, instead of sleeping on the couch, I went out to the garage and slept in the car.

Then she couldn't say I was holding her up. 

I was being extra good.

Then there was the car ride. 

And as siblings do, my little Brother loved annoying me.

When he did, I had rules of engagement.

The first rule? 

I had to ask him nicely to stop. 

And second? 

I was not to "screech".

If I skipped the first step my parents would ask, "Did you ask him nicely to stop?" If I said no, then they'd tell me that yelling was being just as mean.

Giving him a reaction, was what he wanted.

I needed to stop antagonizing him.

Yet, inevitably, every day, we'd fight in the back seat.

And like I said, there is nothing more my mom hated than "my screeching".

So she invented a solution.

If we fought during the drive, she would pull onto the shoulder and kick us out of the car.

Then she'd drive away,

and we could only get back in

if we ran fast enough.