I'M Glad You'Re Not My Mother! This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

   As I sat down in a seat on the Blue Line subway, my thoughts were disrupted by a loud family across from me. The shrill voice belonged to a woman who was arguing with her husband, while trying to keep her young baby occupied on her lap. I noticed that their other child, a quiet little girl, about three years old, was shoved in a corner. The mother neglected her, devoting all her attention to her baby. The mother seemed to be the head of the household. The father kept looking at his reflection in the windows, not saying anything while his wife talked incessantly about how hard it was to stay home and take care of the kids all day. The father finally retorted that it was even harder to hold a steady job as a mailman, and walk from house to house all day.

The woman didn't seem young or old, just rather tired and worn. Her face had a mean, hard look. She had a pointy nose and thin lips that were hidden by her plump jowls. Her short greasy uneven hair did nothing to camouflage her unattractive face. She had rolls of fat that were visible through her tight-fitting tee shirt. Her faded, over-sized jeans, dirty white parka and worn sneakers added to her unkempt appearance. Even the baby in her lap seemed to reflect her sloppiness. He had dried food on his face and a runny nose that needed to be wiped. The mother kept shoving a bottle of juice into the baby's mouth to keep him quiet while she kept up a steady argument. "Why do we have to visit your mother every week? She could visit us, and anyhow, all she ever does is criticize me and the way that I take care of the kids, and furthermore, you never stick up for me, or tell her to be quiet." She seemed unaware that she was in a public place and carried on as though she were in the privacy of her own house. The whole car seemed silent, listening to her high-pitched whine.

I was relieved when it was time for me to change trains at Government Center. I thought I would have a tranquil ride for the rest of the way. Just my luck: they switched trains, too, and got on the same car I did. I endured another 15 minutes of listening to their quarrel. When they reached their destination, the woman hauled her massive body out of the seat, dragging the baby and a bulky purse. I heard her yell at her husband, "Bring the stroller and don't forgot Jennifer!" The whole car seemed to breathe a sigh of relief to be rid of the obnoxious woman. n

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

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Lily">This teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
yesterday at 4:45 pm
i love this so much!
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