Ugly : clifford a.u

Michael

It hit me when I was about fifteen that I was supposed to have annoyed, angst filled distain for my mother. I tried for about a week to take part in the whole, back talking, door slamming, huffing in annoyance thing, however when she broke down crying, undoubtedly wondering where her son had gone and why some self entitled, horrific brat had taken her place, I gave it up.

Since that day, I have been unconventionally, and unapologetically my Mom’s best friend and she’d been mind. I knew from movies and books on tapes that the normal thing for me to do would be to smoke, drink, sleep around and generally break the woman that bore me’s heart, but in my mind that seemed stupid and pointless.

Why treat the woman who had been there before anyone else and would be there after everyone else, like completely and utter garbage for no other reason then, my balls were dropping and my voice deepening.

I wasn’t weirdly close to my Mom in the sort of Normal Bates-esque  way that you see some Mothers and sons, but we’re quite close and engage in many fun actives together. Like bowling, frequent movie nights, and every other Sunday, musical dusting.

It was while we were partaking in a particularly vigorous musical dusting session, bouncing around the living room to ‘Come on Eileen,’ singing loudly at the top of our lungs, that the doorbell rang.

“Who could that be?” Mom asked, mid too-ra-loo-rye-aye.

“No idea.” I replied,  holding my feather duster above my head as Lola leapt into the air to grab it.

“I’ll be right back.” Mom said, poking me with her feather duster before walking away.

My head bopping to the music, I began removing the picture frames off the mental when I heard my Mom renter the room.

“Michael!” she gushed excitedly, “There’s someone here to see you!”

I know it probably seems kind of dumb on my Mom’s part to be vague since I’m blind and all, however without her having to say anything I knew exactly who it was.

“It’s Spencer!” my Mom cried, as if I couldn’t figure that out for myself, seeing as Spencer was the only person besides my Maggie who ever came over.

“Hi.” Spencer greeted somewhat awkwardly, probably picking up on the strong, ‘Oh my Gosh it’s happening, Michael is finally getting his shit together and attracting girls, I was beginning to doubt this day would ever come’ vibe my oozing from every fiber of my Mom’s being.

“Hey.” I replied, tossing my duster to the ground and shoving my hands into my pockets, “I didn’t invite you over and forget right?”

“No.” she said quickly, “No, I just… I thought I’d drop by but if you’re busy I ca….”

“Michael; isn’t busy.” My Mom interrupted, “He’s not doing anything.”

“That’s not true Mother.” I sighed, “I’m breathing, I’m creating carbon dioxide, which allows sunlight and heat into the atmosphere. I could stop if you like, but we might all freeze to death in the dark so I really would rather not.”

“Like I said.” My Mom replied, her eye roll, audible in her tone, “Michael isn’t doing anything.”

“Oh, okay.” Spencer mumbled awkwardly, “Are you sure? Because I can leav…”

“Spencer.” I sighed, “My Mother has been waiting seventeen years for this moment. Her only son is conversing with a girl, I’m willing to bet she’s sizing you up for wedding dress measurements now.”

“Michael!” my Mom gasped, “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“How silly of me.” I said apologetically, “She’s probably starting with the cake, or perhaps the flowers.”