You know when you say something out loud and immediately regret it? Well, that is what happened to me. Now, to make things even more complicated than they already were, Margaret replies, “Oh, what’s the matter, Lizzie… has no one ever called you mom before? Well, maybe I should start calling you that because you are going to be a mother someday….just like the rest of us, so you better get used to it,” as she devilishly grins.

Dang, I never thought my mom would be this catty. I would love to talk some sense into her, but I can’t at the moment because, well, she’s my mother, for crying out loud. If only there was some way I was not her son and her totally not being my mom, then I would really let her have it. Wait a second…she doesn’t see me as her son at all. Does she? Plus, I wasn’t even born yet. Instead, she only sees me as her college roommate. Now, this roommate is ready to let her claws out!

So with a sly smile on my face I asked Margaret, “What does you calling me Mom have to do with your taste in music, if you have any?”

“Hey, I have great taste in music, but I wish I could say the same about yours.”

Shocked, I replied, “Huh?”

“Yeah, you heard me. I may have rummaged through your stuff while you were away two weeks ago, and honestly, I couldn’t believe that you actually listened to pop and new wave songs. Why do you even bother to listen to bands like the B52s and The Cure anyway? They aren’t exactly the best to listen to, you know. But....that’s just my opinion and maybe... just...maybe you should try to listen to Motley Crue once in a while because you might actually learn a thing or two about music from them.”

I just mumbled, “Yeah, like you’re one to talk.”

“What was that? I didn’t hear you?” Margaret asked.

“What? Ohhh, I just said that at least my music doesn’t make me go deaf.”

She replies, “You barely listened to them, so that doesn’t count.”

I shouted, “What does, Margaret? What does count from the lame band of yours?”

She responded, “Hey....Motley Crue is totally one of the greatest heavy metal bands that ever lived and--”

I interrupted her and said, “Motley Crue is lame...period....and Margie, I’m surprised that a girl like you hasn’t broken your hands or nails yet by constantly banging on that desk of yours, which, by the way, is starting to drive me a little crazy while I’m trying to work on stuff for a thing called school.”

Margaret gasped in shock and shouted, “Take back what you said about Motley Crue now!”

I got in her face and asked, “And what are you going to do if I don’t….ground me?” as I laughed in her face. While she was busy huffing and pouting, I continued, “You are not my mom, and I’m certainly not yours, so there’s nothing you can do....”

Suddenly, I heard a slapping noise, and before you know it, I’m looking in the opposite direction and felt pain on the left side of my face. I said while feeling my left side. “Oww! Did you just…?”

Margaret, still fuming, interrupted me, saying, “ That’s for calling Motley Crue lame, and if you don’t like me banging on my desk, maybe you should go to the library instead. It’s nice and quiet for your sensitive little ears over there.” Oh, she’s so asking for it now.

I said, “You know what...fine... I will go, but before I do, there’s something I need to take care of first.” It was then that I pulled her hair quite hard.

“Oww! What was that for?” she asked.

I simply answered, “Well, that’s for slapping me, so I guess we’re even now. Right?”

Margaret got angry and replied, “Not even close.” She then pulled my hair, and I think, messed it up too to get her point across, and I’m not gonna lie, but that tingly feeling that I had from the slap didn’t even compare to the hair pull I got just now...that hurts.

I cried, “Ow my hair,” as I began to pat my hair. She laughed big and asked, “Do you like the new perm I gave you? Because I think it suits you. Don’t you think?” l walked over to Liz’s mirror to see what the heck Margaret was talking about, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. I saw Liz’s reflection with her hair all messed up! I was furious because you know how much time was devoted to curling and uncurling that hair every single day!

It’s like I’m in some sort of trance with no way to snap out of it until it’s done! Now, it’s going to take me forever to finish undoing this new mess. “That’s it!” I exclaimed and pushed her as she was busy laughing and calling me names. She immediately stopped laughing, the name-calling, and pushed me back too. Now, that’s how I got into a fight with my own mother for the first and only time in my life.

We were pulling each other’s hair out, a couple slaps and insults were thrown at each other, and all I got to say is that it was the wildest day of my life. Now, I’ve seen some pretty amazing fights at my school and at home before, but fighting with your mother, who is your college roommate and around the same age as you, is definitely bizarre.

After the fight, we didn’t speak to each other for the rest of the night. I went back to my desk, finished what I needed to get done for the day, and so did she. But something about the next morning just felt off, and I couldn’t really explain it. When I woke up, I was feeling more tired than I had the previous week and had this terrible headache.

But I knew once my mom woke up that I had to say something or at least make an attempt to apologize about what I said last night. It seemed like the right thing to do. So, I waited patiently in my bed till she woke up.

After I saw her get up from her bed, I got up as well and said to her with a smile, “Hey...good morning.” She immediately ignored me and now started to make her bed. I guess she was still mad at me, huh, so I said to her, “Margaret, I’m sorry about what happened last night, ok.”

Now, she stopped making her bed, turned her head away, and said, “Hmph,” while walking straight past me without looking me in the eye and headed straight for her closet.

I followed her and said, “Look, Mo--argret, I shouldn’t have called Motley Crue lame in the first place. I’m really sorry about that. But I had no idea that they meant something to you.”

She still didn’t say anything, so I pushed forward and said, “Hey, I knew I shouldn’t have said the things that were said last night and probably should have kept it all to myself...I’m sorry, I really am. I was just a tad bit curious what you listen to, that’s all.”

Margaret replied, “Go on.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I know that we might never agree on music, but...I still want us to be friends and good roommates. What do you say?” as I stuck my hand out.

After a couple moments of silence, she finally answered, “Ahh, I can’t stay mad at you forever. I’m sorry too, and you’ll be a great mother someday, probably better than me. I’m going to take back everything I said about you last night, and yeah, I know what you’re gonna say, and yes, it was wrong for me to try to convince you to switch bands. I’m sorry. Now, I will try to stop my banging, and if it ever bothers you again, can you please let me know? Yeah, I want to give us another shot too. Come here, you.”

It was then that she hugged me...really...really...tight. As we hugged, I’m glad that we made up, but honestly, I can’t believe stuff like that actually works...I thought it only happens in the movies. I’m just glad we could put this whole ordeal behind us and move on with our lives. The only thing to do now, is time to get ready to meet up with all of her friends that I met at the football game in the cafeteria.

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