Blob and a Curse [discontinued]

1

*George's mother's pov*

It's the 1st of November, my son's 19th birthday, I know he didn't want gifts (like normal) but he hasn't been in a good place right now so i wanted to buy him presents to make him happy like: a homemade photo album, some pastel coloured music sheet paper and a cute small smiley blob thing. With the blob thing i found it on ebay, it said something about being good company or something. I mostly brought it because if he didn't want to keep it at least he could get a laugh from it.

I stopped by Tesco's on my way to his and brought him some chocolates as well (and some pancake mix). Oh, what I'd do to see a smile on my son's face. He's always trying to keep everyone and everything around him okay but he doesn't check on himself, I worry about him. I am his mother, it's my job to worry about my kids.

I pull up to his apartment complex, it's 10am I'm unsure if he's up yet, luckily I have the spare keys do I can let myself in.

With the bags in my arms I unlock the door quietly, I tiptoe my way into the open plan living room to put the bags in. I lack of noise tells me he's still sleeping so I had to the kitchen and start to cook some pancakes.

Once all the pancakes are finished and stacked onto a plate, I make my way to his bedroom door and knock gently on it. I wait a bit and knock again, this time I hear a little grumble from the other side.

"G'Morning birthday boy!" I said cheerily as I opened the door, "I made pancakes, your favorite!" I walk over to him, he had his head buried into his pillow.

"pancakes?" he sounded happy he slowly lifted his head and turned it to look at me. I nodded, I saw a his eyes lighten slightly.

"Now get up before they get cold" I pay his shoulder then left, closing the door behind myself.

After a couple minutes, he came out wearing a light blue hoodie and black shorts and on his head sat fragile golden glasses, it was obviously to early for him to put his contacts in.

"Help yourself to as many as you'd like," I pushed the plate of pancakes his way and a empty one to him, I had already taken out the toppings he'd normally choose (etc nutella, sugar, syrup).

"you know you don't need to do this, I'm not 5" George said before shoving half a pancake in his mouth, I left out a chuckle.

"You are still my baby George, I'll spoil you till the day I die, okay?" I smile sweetly at him trying to comfort him.

"don't say that," George looked at me sadly, I really shouldn't of said it but I did because it was true, he always wanted honesty.

"Sorry George," I sigh, I was going to say something but a big bit of syrup fell out his mouth and I could help but laugh and I got a bit of tissue to clean his face.

Once George ate a good amount of the pancakes, I ate a couple myself, I told him to stay there when I went to grab the bag from the off the couch.

He gave me a look, "I know you said no presents,"

"Mum no," George said about to stand up but I put a hand on his shoulder and tried to give a comforting smile

"But, I could help myself," he gave he the same look, akin to a death glare but less murderous and more 'I only gave you one job and you couldn't-even do that properly' look, "There's only a couple things okay?"

"fine..." George looked annoyed, I know he doesn't like people spending money on him but I'm his mother, I have to.

"Great!" I framed ignorance to the emotion and reached into the bags, "close your eyes!" I said in a sing-song way. He just gave me a quick nod and closed his eyes he tapped the counter in a rythme I didn't recognise, maybe a new song he was working on.

Once I had finished presenting the few objects in a cluttered manner I told George to "open your eyes" when he did the annoyance in his faded slightly, his eyes soften like he was happy, smiling even... but there wasn't a smile but I could tell he was softened by the presents.

George doesn't like to express his emotions, he can only express it through music, he doesn't share his music with people, but when he still lived at home, I'd sometimes hear bits and I felt like I could feel what he was feeling.

George gingerly reached for the photo album, his fingers tracing the faces of those we have lost and those that are just out his reach. His eyes softened in a saddened way, I wish I knew what he was thinking, I knew the photo album would be sad but I thought it'd be a good choice.

I heard a faint sniffle escape from George. I reached out my hand across the counter and grasped his arm softly, my thumb rubbing up and down, "it's okay" I said softly, George looked up at me, no tears had fallen but there where fragile water in his eyes.

He looked away and used the sleeve of his jumper to wipe his noise, he looked back and gave me a small nod.

I let go of his arm, I straightened my back, "I also got you this," I smile sheepishly at my boy, I reached to the small blob thing and shaped it just in front of him.

He gave out a little force chuckle and took it into his hands, he looked at it then at me, he gave my a tight-lipped smile and brought it to his chest, "thanks mum," he continued to give me the forced smile.

I just walked around the counter and gave him a deep motherly hug, "Happy 19th birthday, George, my baby boy," I broke the hug and put my hands on either side of his face and save it a quick squeeze, "oh my! Look how you have grown! I so deeply proud of you!" I gave him a quick kiss on his forehead, "my son." I said with a smile and let go of him.

I could see through his sadness some happiness in that moment even it was mellow type of happiness, bittersweet happiness.

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