Four days snowed in, stuck in this house. She hovers over me as I attempt to read and enjoy the peace of my enforced pseudo-holiday.

“Would you like a coffee?”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“What about a tea?”
“Naw, ah’m fine.”
“Maybe a glass of juice.”
“Nah Maw, ah’m awright the noo, ah ken whaur a’hin is.”
“Okay, well just help yourself.”
“Aye, cheers, ah’ll dae that.”
“Are you sure you don’t want a coffee? What about a wine?”
[Breathe in, hold it, breathe out]
“Naw Maw, ah’m fine.”
“Well there’s wine on the counter, beer in the fridge and whiskey in the cupboard.”
“Mither – it’s no’ even four. Ah just want tae read fur a bit.”
“Oh, okay, well just help yourself when you get thirsty.”
“Aye, cheers.”

She turns as if to leave the room, drifts almost out of my peripheral vision, then at the last minute pivots and…

“Would you like a biscuit?”
“Maw, ah’m eatin’ a banana. Ye kin see it in ma haund.”
“Yes, but it’s not much, is it?”
“Ye’ve a’ready goat dinner oan. It’ll no be an hour til wur eatin’. Ah’ve a’ready telt ye ah dinnae eat much these days, least no’ when ah’m no at the gym.”
“Oh yes, you’re right. Wouldn’t want to spoil it.”

Hover, hover, hover. I know it’s coming, I can hear the gears churning away up there.

“There are crisps in the cupboard you know.”
“Mither. Ah’m fine. Seriously. Ah’m guid.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye. Ah’m. Sure.”
[Sweet mother of christ, I’m related to Mrs Doyle…]
“You’ll not have a coffee?”
“NAW! Ah dinnae want a coffee or a juice or a beer or a water! Ah’m no’ thirsty or hungry! Ah’ve finished ma banana an’ ah kin wait fur dinner! Ah ken whaur a’hing is, ye’ve bin tellin’ me tae help masel’ fur the past fowr days an’ that’s whit ah’ve bin daein’! When ah want some’hin’ ah gan an’ git it! Like ye keep tellin’ me tae dae again an’ again! Ah’m tired! Ah’m cauld! Ah’m upset cause mah relationship’s finally buggered fer guid! Ah’ve had three interviews an’ ah’m stil applyin’ fer mair joabs! An’ right noo, all ah want tae dae is just read ma book! Just fer five minutes if that’s awright!!!”

Oops. Silence, let’s say fifteen seconds.

“Oh. Right. Well just so you know, we’ve got Hob-Nobs in the cupboard.”
“Naw! Ah dinnae wa… Wait… Plain or chocolate?”
“Chocolate of course.”

“Awright, gonnae get us wan then. Jist wan, mind…”

* Not an entirely true story. Not verbatim anyway. You’d be amazed how close though…


One response to “Maw

  1. Erika Albinson

    Feel like I have this conversation daily with my own mother. She spends more time picking up my dishes though and asking if I’ve got any ironing that needs doing. Ironing? Is she nuts?

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