Short story

Her daughter’s words force Sally to wonder if she has failed as a mum

Sally felt dreadful. She really must take more care how she spoke to the children. What sort of mother was she?

It was an ordinary Saturday morning in the Walker household. Sally was making breakfast while Ivan, her husband, was reading the sports section of the paper.

The weather was sunny and they had plans for a family picnic by the lake in the park. The sandwiches were made and Sally just needed to add some cold drinks to the backpack before they set off. It would be fun.

The two boys were busy building something complicated with their Lego and Molly, the five-year-old, was playing with her favourite doll, the kind of doll that looked like a real baby, complete with nappy wetting and being able to say ‘Mama’. Sally had spent hours knitting and sewing clothes for this doll. It was almost like their fourth child, she thought, smiling to herself.

Molly’s raised voice reached Sally’s ears. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. Stop that immediately. You never do as you’re told.”

‘Goodness,’ thought Sally, ‘What has the poor doll done to deserve that tirade?’ She listened with amusement as she put the bacon under the grill and pressed the button on the toaster.

“I’m not telling you again!” Molly threatened. “It will be no supper for you, young lady, if you don’t do as you are told this instant.” Sally thought her daughter sounded like a strict Victorian schoolmistress. Where had she heard that tone of voice before? There was something strangely familiar about it.

The toast and bacon were done and as she put the food on the table, she caught sight of the look on Ivan’s face. He was still apparently studying the football reports, but his mouth twitched at the corners as though he was trying to suppress a smile.

“Breakfast is ready!” she called to Molly and the boys. There was no reaction. The boys carried on playing with their Lego and Molly with her doll.

“Boys, Molly – have you gone deaf?” she called again. Still no reaction. Sally grew impatient. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times. Stop what you’re doing immediately and come to the table when I call you.”

Ivan chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” Sally demanded.

“Nothing, dear. Nothing.” He assumed an expression of bland innocence.

“Well, perhaps they might come if you call them. The food is getting cold.”

“Boys, Molly, do as your mother asks,” Ivan said to them without raising his voice.

“Oh, alright, but we’ve just nearly finished it,” Sam, their eldest, said disconsolately. He pulled a face at his brother, Josh, but they both left their game and ambled over to take their seats at the table.

Reluctantly, Molly put her doll back in her crib. “Now, be good while I have my breakfast – and keep quiet!” she admonished, waving her finger firmly.

After spreading tomato ketchup liberally over the table as well as the bacon, the boys ate their breakfast at full speed and returned to constructing their Lego. Molly ate more slowly and with concentration.

Looking at her daughter, Sally had a sudden uncomfortable flash of insight. It was HER voice that Molly used when she was talking to her doll! She had copied Sally’s tone exactly. Horrified at

the realisation, she flushed with shame to think that she sounded like a harridan.

After Molly had got down from the table, Sally turned to Ivan. “Do I really sound like that when I talk to them?” she murmured.

Ivan spread his hands wide: “What can I say? A near-perfect imitation, to be honest.”

Sally felt dreadful. She really must take more care how she spoke to the children. What sort of mother was she?

Ivan said soothingly: “I’m sure most mums sound like that when their children don’t do as they are told.”

Sally wailed: “But I sound awful!”

Soon after, when the boys started to fight over who should put the last piece of Lego in place, she found herself shouting: “Will you two be quiet this instant or…”. Realising she was doing it again, she tailed off in mid sentence.

Sam said kindly: “It’s okay, Mum. We don’t mind you yelling at us. We just carry on, anyway.”

Josh put his hand over his mouth to hide a smile. Trying hard not to snap, Sally asked: “And what’s so amusing, young man?”

Sam glanced over at Josh and they both grinned. Sam said: “It’s the look on your face when you’re cross with us. We call it your llama face.” Both boys dissolved into a fit of helpless giggles.

Sally was unusually subdued for the rest of the day, thinking that her children must resent her even though she loved them to bits. She reflected that Ivan hadn’t needed to shout. He had said quietly, but firmly, ‘Come to the table now, children’ and they had obeyed him. Anxiously examining her face in the bathroom mirror, Sally wondered if she really did look like a llama when she was cross?

At least she had never hit them. Well, that wasn’t quite true. She had once smacked Sam when he was being particularly unkind to Josh, but she had felt so guilty afterwards that she had never done it again.

Although everyone else appeared to have forgotten it, the incident over breakfast haunted Sally. She brooded on what she sounded like when she lost patience with them. And looked like! A llama, for heaven’s sake! ‘Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings,’ she mumbled as she picked wet towels off the floor.

Ivan came into the bathroom. Sensing that she was still feeling down, he gave her a quick hug. “Great picnic,” he said. “Now stop worrying. They all love you very much and it isn’t often that you shout at them.”

“Really?” Sally longed for some kind of reassurance.

“You’re a great mum, Sally. Think of the hours you spend helping them with their homework, supporting the boys at football and making clothes for Molly’s doll.”

“Thanks, love, but I’m not sure that counts for much.”

After the children were tucked up in bed, Sally went into Molly’s room to read her a story and kiss her goodnight. Hearing her daughter’s voice, she paused in the doorway and listened to Molly singing a lullaby: “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.”

Kissing her doll tenderly, she settled her into the crib beside her bed, saying softly: “Now sleep tight, little one. See you in the morning. And don’t forget I love you very, very much.”

“Ah, that’s so sweet,” Sally murmured. Then a huge wave of relief swept over her: “Goodness, that is exactly like my voice, too – I can’t be such a terrible mother after all.”

Later, when she told Ivan what she had overheard, he took her in his arms and said: “None of us would change you one bit, especially not your lovely llama face!”

About our author

Penny has four children and seven grandchildren. She belongs to two book groups and loves travelling to Tuscany with her Italian husband