Mum, stop pestering Dad every night!
Emily stared at her mother with a weighty look. Mum, I need to speak to you like a woman to a woman.
Margaret swallowed, nodded, and asked, Alright, what shall we talk about?
What about? Emily asked, surprised. Men.
So who are we to discuss? Margaret replied, trying to set her straight. Men are living things.
Why is that? Emily pressed, bewildered. Well, if youre already talking about people, talk about who they are.
Brrr, Emily muttered, displeased. I havent even said anything yet and youve already confused me.
Im sorry, Margaret said, softening. Tell me whats wrong.
This isnt whats bothering you, is it? Emily snapped back, correcting her mother. Im scared for our Father.
What happened to him? Margaret asked.
I think youve been laying into him too hard at night.
Dont you get it? Emilys forehead glistened with a cold sweat. Darling, youre not asleep at night?
Of course I am, Margaret said, her face sincere.
But I keep hearing you nag him: Thats enough, its late, time to go to bed, shut the laptop! Mum, hes working on his laptop. Hes earning money for both of us. For me, for toys; for you, for groceries. Why do you keep hounding him?
Clearly I am hounding him. In this case youre right. I promise Ill change. Are those all your questions? Is this conversation over?
Absolutely, Emily agreed, nodding.
Ill go heat up the dinner. Dad will be home from work soon.
Emily sprinted to the window, eyes scanning the street for her fathers familiar silhouette, his arms still waving at her from the driveway.
