Just Say You Hate Me, Mother 

Your hair might look better straight. Do want me to straighten it before you go? 

Is that what you’re wearing? 

Monday, angry face. 

I saw a nice pair of shoes at Nordstrom you might like. 

Why are you so pale? I worry about you. 

Tuesday, silent treatment. 

Wednesday, angry face, silent treatment. 

Thursday, cold shoulder.  

Do you want me to iron your shirt for you? 

You look thin. Is something bothering you? 

I don’t like that color on you. 

Friday, angry face. 

You should wear your hair down. 

Do you not like nail polish? 

Did you brush your hair? 

Saturday, silence.

I threw away those shorts you sleep in. There was hole in them. 

You like that? It was never my style. 


“Just say you hate me, mother!”

© Leila Chammas, November 3, 2016


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