Mallory's day had be excruciatingly long. She'd overslept- aparently she'd set the alarm for pm instead of am, a mistake she had made so often back home and it never failed to put her in a bad mood. She'd woken up at twenty to twelve to find that Maaka had been playing with her (very narrow) selection of makeup and had drawn lipstick patterns all over the walls and bedclothes. It had taking every ounce to restraint not to scream at him; after all, if she hadn't been sleeping she could have told him that's not really what lipstick was for.
They spent the next half an hour cleaning it off- Maaka mad more mess than he cleaned up, but Mallory was determined that he should learn some kind of responsibility about this kind of thing. He took at all as a huge game till she snapped and yelled at him to be serious or she'd leave him here while she went out riding the trains. By the time they left (after loading armfulls of sheets and a duvet cover into the washing machine) both of them were in bad moods. They missed their first train because Maaka demanded that he put the money into the ticket machine himself- the train was just pulling up as they started and had dashed off again by the time they were both through. There was another in eleven minutes, but Mallory told him off anyway and tried to explain the meaning of in a hurry.
It just hadn't been a good morning.
Maaka was exhausted from fussing all day by the time they got home, but refused to take a nap before dinner. "Please, honey. Johanna's going to cook for us all tonight and I want you on your best behaviour," she pleaded.
"I'm not tired!" he yelled back, and Mallory sighed.
"Yes you are, I can tell. Go to bed."
"Fine. Go and watch TV." Mallory gave up, she hated fighting with him. Maaka looked sulky, but probably just for effect, and stomped off as loudly as he could to the television. She knew she shouldn't rely on the TV for babysitting purposes... but right now curling up somewhere and crying was all she wanted to do. But she also didn't want to leave Maaka alone downstairs, and arg it was so frustrating!
She sat down hard on a wicker chair in the corner of the living room and glared at the TV. After a while, she was just staring into middle distance, exhausted from the last week's newness and today's unnessisary frustrations. Sometimes, she thought, it'd just be easier to be back in New Zealand.
Current Music: Live to tell the Tale ~Nightwish~