The Sherlock and Watson Association

Chapter 3

I turned around in my bed, and slowly opened my eyes. 10:11 the clock blinked. I smiled.

“I love Saturdays,” I whispered. Grabbing my sweater I left my room and headed down for some cereal, wrapping the sweater around me. It was a giant sweater that went way past my arms, and enveloped me in a soft red sweater burrito. It was almost as nice as my own bed and blankets. Almost.

“Sleep well?” asked my mom.

“Yeah,” I said, grabbing the milk out of the fridge, and walked to the table, and made myself a quick bowl of cereal, rolling up the huge red sleeves so I would not get them in my bowl. I began munching as mom said nothing, and we lapsed into a mutual silence. I am not sure how other family dinners go, but ours usually go something like this. Cereal and silence. I think they go pretty well together.

My spoon scraped the end of the bowl, as I finished up the last bit of milk.

“Homework?” asked my mom as she closed her laptop, sipping her coffee.

“A bit,” I mumbled, greatly preferring the silence over this.

“Get it done by today,” she said, opening a law book.

“Why?” I asked, putting my spoon in the dishwasher

“Greg is taking us out for lunch and a movie, I don’t want the day to be filled,” she said, putting on her reading glasses as she looked up at me.

“Okay,” I sighed, “What movie?”

“I don’t know, the new spy one,” she said. Greg was my mom’s boyfriend, he was okay, I guess. Most dinners where them talking to each other, asking me occasional questions about school, while I read a book under the table.

I sighed and made way back to my room, and took out my math textbook and notebook. I turned to my computer, oh how I wished I could wrap myself up in my Tumblr blog and waste the day away, but apparently my math teacher had other ideas.

*      *     *

I stapled my social studies report together and happily shoved it into my backpack, as I felt a small weight lift over my shoulders. It was a glorious moment, homework done, projects finished, nothing looming over my head. I took a deep breath in my glory.

“Cathy,” called my mom,

“Yes,” I called back, opening up my laptop, and logging on to Tumblr.

“Could you run by the store later, I have a case tonight, I’ll be back around nine, don’t know how long this one will take,”

“Okay,” I called, scrolling through my dashboard as I wrapped myself deeper into my sweater, “Love you!”

“Love you too!” she cried, as I heard the door close. I really did love my mother, and she loved me too, we both knew that. We were just different, and needed to be alone sometimes, I guess, to take a break from each other. It’s sort of like a book I read for my first Language Arts project, The Scarlet Letter, by Nathaniel Hawthorne. I loved the book, but it was just hard to understand, and sometimes I just had to put it down and take a break.