Conversely

Another Crack

“Can you believe it?”

“Believe what?”

“That! What Mom just said before she walked out of the room.”

“About you needing to wear a slip underneath that dress?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, you know her. That’s just her way of —”

“Don’t defend her. She does this to me all the time. And I’m getting pretty damn tired of it.”

“But she was only trying to —”

“She’s been cutting me down like that this since I can remember. Are you actually going out of the house wearing that? Do you really think you should be seen with that McCarty boy? No one cuts their hair like that anymore. Her snide remarks never end. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mom can be overly critical sometimes, but she wasn’t —”

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve had it! I’m tired of forgiving her. Next time, I’m going to let her have it.”

“But she only wanted you to know that —”

“That she hates me. Pure and simple. She hates me. Why she hates me, I honestly don’t know, but she does.”

“That’s not true. And you know it.”

“Is too.”

“Annie, Mom was only trying to tell you that your dress was riding up and had gotten stuck in your butt crack. She was trying to avoid embarrassing you by telling you that you should wear a slip. I was going to tell you myself, but she beat me to the punch.”