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"You'll never believe what Niko and I did today," my mother squeals in excitement

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"You'll never believe what Niko and I did today," my mother squeals in excitement.

I hold the phone away from my ear in a useless attempt to save my eardrums from her piercing voice. She's referring to the family dog, and as much as I love that little shit, I highly doubt his actions warrant a phone call. But it's also my mother, so ignoring the call wasn't exactly an option.

She goes on to explain that Niko, a tiny Pomeranian, somehow managed to knock up the Labrador down the street. They had their first "prenatal" visit with the owner at the vet's.

"Yeah? You going to split custody of the puppies with Dad too like you do with Niko?" Yup. My parents divorced as soon as I graduated high school, practically signed the papers the minute my graduation cap left my head, and then split custody over their fucking dog.

"Hazel Rose!" she chastises, her shrill voice rising another octave.

Has she always been so squeaky?

"Jesus Mom," I grumble irritably, "it's still early."

"Early? Hazel, it's nearly noon."

I take a deep drink from my coffee and shrug my shoulders even though I know she can't see me. "It's early for me."

She sighs quietly. "So have you at least found yourself someone suitable to bring home yet? Thanksgiving is right around the corner."

There she goes again. Always pressuring me to "find a man," like it would solve all of the world's problems. Sorry to break it to you Mom, but me deciding to shack up with some guy isn't going to solve world hunger.

"Mother," I whine.

"You're getting older, honey," she continues as though she didn't hear me. "It would give me piece of mind to know that my daughter—"

"Mother," I repeat, more forcefully. "I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"Of course not sweetie," she agrees quickly, but it's her tone that contradicts the words that leave her mouth. "Of course you do."

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