3156.
In the distance I could see Jason, he was coming home from the store,
just the same as the night before. His grandmother had lied to me
about his being upstairs.
3157.
Everything about my house seemed different that night, and I saw
things in a new light. My Mom’s behavior, which I always thought was
so pointless and annoying suddenly made sense to me in a new but very
dismal way. My Mom was either cleaning up, or talking about how she
needed to clean up.
3158.
I was always being given cleaning projects to do around the house. On
Saturday, I couldn’t leave the house until I had vacuumed the stairs.
Sometimes also I had to wash the tub, or clea n the windows with windex
and newspapers.
3159. I hated these jobs which seemed pointless to me, and yet I felt sorry for my mother, who spent all day from morning till night washing up, cooking, ironing. Now, for once, I had seen the consequences of never cleaning house and so understood my mother’s overwhelming fear of squalor in all its somber implications.
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