Flowers of Despair (Watty Awards)

It had to be done. I shuddered delicately and dreaded the time ahead, but I had no choice. They had to go. I lent down and picked up the two squishy brown slugs up off my begonias and threw them next door. That old bag deserved them she had lots of weeds including her son. I giggled at my joke.

"Mum what are you laughing at?" My 16 year old son sauntered down the garden path a bemused look upon his face.

"Nothing dear." I smiled innocently back at him, he frowned then shrugged.

"OK I'm going out all right?"

"W W W . H I?" I called after his retreating back.

"Party. Gary's. Now till 11. Sam's giving me a lift. There is no impact." His tone was nothing more than bored as he answered my take on the drama expression he had learnt at school - Where, When, Who With, How and what was the Impact. He didn't even wait for a reply as he slammed the door behind him with a grunt of "s'laters."

I sighed I missed the close bond we used to have. These days he was more into hanging out with his "Bro's" rather than his old mum. I frowned i must be losing it as i have never referred to my self as old. 37 was not old. No it was more like junior high of life rather than senior school.

"Honey im home!" I sighed again. Oh well the gardening would just have to wait.