Single Momhood

Violence averted at the O-Kazek Corral

From the book “Fairly Odd Mother: Musings of a Slightly Off Southern Mom.” Written in 2008 when Baby Girl was 14.

The house was quiet. I was in my bedroom; Shannon in hers.

Between us — the kitchen. Who would make the first move? The tension mounted (cue the eerie, whistling theme to “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly.”)

I unholstered my phone and dialed my daughter’s cell phone. Twenty-five feet away, from behind the closed bedroom door, she answered.

“Well?” I asked.

“Well?” she answered.

“Are you?”

“I said I would.”

“That was two days ago. I want to know when.”

“I said I would.”

I waited. Still no sign of movement. In the kitchen, only the sounds of crickets and passing tumbleweeds could be heard.

I decided to take action: I went to bed.

In the morning, Shannon and I met at 20 paces in the kitchen

“What’s for breakfast?” she asked.

“No breakfast. Nothing to eat it from.”

She shrugged, rolled up a chocolate-chip Eggo and went to catch her ride to school.
That night I was ready.

“Mom, I need a new outfit for Friday night.”

I shrugged. “No chores, no money.”

“No money?”

“No. Money.”

She moved like a professional dish-slinger. I didn’t even see her draw. In fewer than two minutes, the dishwasher was empty. I smiled and got my purse. We went out for a nice mother-daughter shopping trip.

The standoff at the O-Kazek Corral had ended without bloodshed. This time.

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