One time when my little sister was like 11 she made my mom breakfast for when she got home from a doctors appointment: eggs, toast, a little bit of jelly in a small bowl for the toast, orange juice, the whole works.
Mom got home, not even fully through the door, starts yelling for my middle sister to unload the dishwasher, yelling at my youngest sister for her shoes being in the way. Yelling at me to feed the dog.
I had already fed the dog. I was currently LOADING the dishwasher. My middle sister had already unloaded it. They were my mom’s own shoes she tripped over.
Youngest sister presented my mom the breakfast. Laid out on the table all pretty.
She said she doesn’t like eggs. That’s the wrong bread for toast. She doesn’t like jelly on her toast. Why did she make a mess in the kitchen? Did she even clean anything up? Why would I let her do this?
Youngest sister breaks down crying. She was trying to do something nice.
I went to go get dad for help. He gave a big sigh like I was bothering him. Takes 20 minutes to come out of his room, pissed and yelling about how he can’t even have a nice morning because WE can’t get along with our mother.
Mom sits in her chair in the living room, drinking the orange juice our sister got for her. The only thing she didn’t complain about, and starts yelling for my middle sister to come get her some food (she refused to eat anything the youngest made).
Idk I just started thinking about that tonight. It was 5 years ago now. And honestly a pretty normal summer morning for my family, just the first time my mom really went into my youngest sister like she has always been for me and my middle sister.
Now that I think about it, my youngest sister has never really been the same since that morning though. She never helps out anymore, refuses to cook anything - even for herself, and obviously, refuses to do anything for mom.
