Three weeks long story short
I woke up at my brothers' calling. Unexpectably I got a good night rest and nobody seemed to have noticed my flustered state yesterday evening. I'm still concerned though: Mum's the weirdest in this family and when it comes to making me feel embarrassment, no one has ever succeded the best. Just like that time...
A couple of weeks ago, I received a message from a old friend of mine telling me they liked me. I felt delighted by... No, I don't even know how I felt. I felt presure and disconfort. I've never rejected someone openly since my natural charming coldness did the hard work fairly well till that day. I even considered trying it out but it just gave me creeps: he just look so alike my cousin! Anyway, in a moment of great confusion, I asked my mother's help.
I admit it: that advise was very useful and I'll keep it in mind for the rest of my life.
The critical part comes at night. While we are having a perfect family moment with our TV, my mother takes a deep breath and starts narrating about the “love letter” I received. More acuratively, she mention the whole story vaguely, leaving me the hard work of explaining the details...
For god's sake, Mother. I know I can tell everything to Daddy, but please, this is not like that time I had my first period. That was something natural and I had no problem putting it into a decent conversation. How do you expect me to bring something like this up in a natural way? I haven't even realised what happened myself!
From that moment I started hating that poor guy that sended me the message. I know it isn't his foult my family has such childdish personalities, but I can' hepl it. Somebody needs to take the blame...
My middle schooler brothers were so annoying at first that a week after I kept getting mad whenever I heard them lough, even more if they were wispering. Although I knew that they had better things to do than making fun of me, I had a hard time getting over that trauma. Gladly my little angel, Alma, was on my side... Maybe not, but since she can't speak yet, I'll consider her an ally.
Alma, is the youngest daughter in our family and Daddy says she'll be the last but Mom is not so sure about it. Anyway, Alma is almost two years old and can oly say simple words. She is very clever herself, and has a strong personality. I like her stubborness, but sometimes it gets too much to handle. Her cuteness makes it up to any wrong in this world, I guess. Look at those round cheeks eating bananas and that hairless head challenging Mastro Lindo: that's insane!
Breakfast time have passed without any inconvenience, so did lunch time. However, I cannot feel reassured yet since the day has yet to end. I'm eating pasta but I can't actually get the taste. It looks like a normal family gathering but truth is this is a battleground with plenty of blood already shed onto it... Unnecessary to be said, those were our tears, mostly summoned by Mother.
Unexpectedly, nothing embarrassing emerged from the conversation and it is already bed time.
Could it be that Mother didn't notice it at all? Was that just me being overly conscious?
I brushed my teeth in a daze full of joy and calmness. I gave everyone my good night kiss and I'm headed towards my cozy bedding. I'm at the top of the stairs and I turn around to see them one last time. I meet Mother's eyes and she smiles at me warmly. That is it.