Blair - Part 1 of Untitled

Blair

            The sounds of many washers and dryers filled the room, as I sat at a table impatiently waiting for my clothes to be dried. I watched as my son walks about the video games, eying the one he would potentially like to play. Two out of the four games were hunting. He passed right by them. He’s the kind of child who would rather die than hurt any animals, no matter the type. He finally settled on the racing game, asking me if he could play it. I looked at him, thinking “Am I made of money?” Instead, I sighed and gave him the money he needed to play the game.

            He stomped away from the game after losing the race, plopping down with a huff. He’s at the age where winning video games, let alone playing video games, was a big deal. I looked over to him, giving him my best smile. I was rewarded with a pitiful frown. Staring at him, I realized that he was no longer the toddler I had grown to love. Now, being five years old, he’s ready to do things on his own, not asking for help from his mom.

            His light brown hair reached down to his shoulders, lightly resting there. His bangs hung in his eyes. I lightly pushed them away, revealing bright blue eyes. Flynn was a carbon copy of his father. I knew it, he knew it, and his father knew it. I pushed his hair out of his face one last time, and sighed. “How did this happen to me?” I asked myself, and got up to fold my laundry.

            My clothes sat in one basket, while Flynn’s sat in another. I folded mine quickly, knowing that my antsy five year old was about to lose it, and would most likely cause a scene. I decided against folding his clothes, knowing they would end up on his bedroom floor at some point. I rushed out to my small four-door sedan to put the clothes up, leaving Flynn alone in the laundry mat. When I got back inside, my son decided it would be fun to climb into one of the rolling baskets.  I angrily pulled him out of the basket and put his coat on.

            “Flynn James, what did I tell you about getting into those baskets? You could’ve hurt yourself!” I quietly yelled.

            “I’m sorry, momma.” He whispered.

            I knew I couldn’t be mad at him for long, so I pulled him into my arms and take him to the car. After buckling him in and starting the car, SpongeBob Squarepants blasted through the speakers. I heard Flynn singing lightly, not getting any of the words correct. Finally feeling at peace and relaxed, I allowed myself to smile. He was safe, loved, and cared for. What else could a mother want for her child?

            “Momma?” Finn asked when we pulled into the drive-way. 

            “What is it, sweetie?” I said.

            “Who is that man standing at the door?” I looked toward the front door and stopped breathing. There stood the man who walked out on Flynn and me almost six and half years ago.......