Raising Gemma

‘The chances of me agreeing to that are Buckley’s and none,’ Hayley snorted.
‘Why not?’ Gemma pouted, ‘You’re just being stuffy!’
Hayley sighed and pushed her cereal to one side, ‘I can handle the multiple earrings, the nose ring and even the pink streak in your hair,’ she told Gemma patiently, ‘but tattooing your latest boyfriend’s name across your neck is where I draw the line.’
‘But…’
‘I said no! I am not arguing about this. I think you should go and do the laundry you’ve been putting off for a week.’
‘Fine!’ Gemma began to flounce from the room, twirling once to have the last say, ‘One day I’m just going to leave here you know,’ she yelled before disappearing down the hallway.
Hayley sighed and closed her eyes. She wondered if other kids had so much trouble with wayward mothers.

© Alison Pearce 2011-02-07

Raising Gemma

Alison Pearce

Logan Central, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes
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Artist's Description

For Flash Fiction’s Challenge 003

Prompt – Buckley’s Chance

Word Count – 142

P.S. Totally Aussie saying and one of my Mum’s favourites as we were growing up!

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