"Bye mom! Take care! Don't miss us too much now!"
"Goodbye mommy! It was so much fun! We'll see you next week!"
"Bye now, girls, be good now! Do your best in your exams!"
Martha waved after the faded red BMW as her daughters Melissa and Lillian drove off, horn honking and waving with arms sticking out the front door windows. As the old car rounded the corner at the end of Memory Lane, the ruddy tabby housecat woman walked back up her driveway and into her house, closing the front door behind her.
It had been a fun weekend. Friday afternoon her daughters had arrived for a visit, and they had stayed all the way until this Sunday evening. A weekend to unwind before a week of end of year exams for the two housecat girls. There had been a funfair in town which they had visited, taking a childish delight in all the old-fashioned simple games of pulling ropes, catching plastic fish with a metal ring through their nose with a pole holding a string with a magnet, throwing balls at stacks of cans, and more. Martha had astounded the two of them at the shooting gallery by popping more little balloons with a pellet rifle than Melissa and Lillian popped larger balloons together.
They had all three gone on the merry-go-round together. They had laughed at each other and made fun of each other - and flashed their boobs an improper amount of times - in the funhouse mirrors. They had bought sizeable blocks of nougat and a veritable forest of candy sticks. They had come home with a variety of stuffed plush animals - all of them dwarfed by the giant toy tiger Martha had won at the shooting gallery. Their dinners had been cheeseburgers with fries on Friday, and fries with a cheeseburger on Saturday. And pancakes that Sunday; there had to be some variety.
Martha switched on the radio and quietly hummed along with some of the songs as she washed, dried and put away the dishes. Yes, it had indeed been a fun weekend; good old-fashioned family fun, carefree and playful. It had made her feel like a little girl again for a couple of cheerful days. Even Melissa's constant teasing complaints had been happily laughed off.
That was a thing Martha always had to chortle over. Each and every time, at each and every visit, Melissa sooner or later started complaining about the furnishing of her house. Having sold almost all the old furniture after her divorce, Martha had decorated her new semi-detached house with quite old-fashioned furniture from a second-hand store. A corduroy three-seat sofa and two matching corduroy armchairs in a dark bronze color. A rectangular coffee table with rounded corners and a top inlaid with thin square slabs of stone. A large white bookcase separating the open kitchen from the living room, with shelves forming random-sized rectangles and squares, some randomly covered with orange doors on both sides. A standing lamp made out of wicker.
Melissa just couldn't help herself at each visit. Always making remarks and questioning her mother's choices. Why have all that old stuff? Why be thrifty and buy things people owned before? C'mon mom, you have plenty of money, you can afford to buy nice new furniture. Let us take you over to Ikea sometime to get all nice new stuff for you. Martha always won the argument with her simple reasoning; I like it, I have to live in it, and I spend my money the way I see fit, young lady. The ruddy-furred housecat woman chortled to herself again as she put away the last dishes and made herself a cup of tea. This time she had even chastised Melissa when the usual remarks started spilling from her mouth again. In a playful manner of course; she had bapped her daughter on the head with a candy stick.
Oh, right, the candy sticks. Better put those away. Martha didn't have that much of a sweet tooth, and she preferred the nougat, anyway. Sinking down in one of the corduroy armchairs with her cup of tea, the rust-colored tabby cat woman calmly leafed through her Woman & Home magazine. It had been a fun weekend alright, but phew, quite the busy one as well. She might be feeling young, and be in good shape thanks to her part-time job at the gym, but she certainly was no longer eighteen years of age. More like eighteen with thirty-four years of experience.
A second cup of tea was enjoyed with a small chunk of nougat. Mmm, ah, that did bring back some memories. But best to reflect on those memories while getting ready for sleep; it was nearing ten o'clock in the evening, and she had a morning shift at the gym the following day. Finishing her tea, Martha rinsed the cup and walked into the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. Ah yes, her bed... a white wingback bed in the same 1970's style as the bookcase between the kitchen and living room, with sheets printed with oversized vines and giant colorful flowers. Large enough to fit herself and her two daughters for their playful romps, very comfortable; also a source for Melissa's teasing complaints because it was a terribly old-fashioned and pre-owned bed. But at least the mattress was brand new.
A quick, short shower, a quick stint in the dryer booth, a quick brushing of teeth. Stepping into her bedroom naked and refreshed, Martha did a few simple calisthenics to loosen her muscles, stretched, and still feeling playful after the fun weekend, let herself flop down onto her bed.
CRUNCH! CRACK! THUMP!
And there she was, laying on the floor with mattress and all. Blinking and lifting her head a bit after the sudden and unexpected failure of her bed's slatted base, Martha looked at the sideboards suddenly being almost above her head, and let out a cheerful laugh.
Alright, maybe it was about time for a new bed...
