Good Days and Bad Days

I had a good day, Mum had a bad day.
Mum suffered a pretty nasty mood swing the other night which started shortly after she went to work about 1600. By the time she arrived home no one wanted to be around her - least of all her own tortured self. It was up to me.

I'd had a great day - the air was warm, the wind was mild and my evil nemisis was nowhere to be found. Mum had been reading her book in the afternoon before going to work so I managed a sneaky snuggle with her on the couch. She's still been on night shift so didn't have to rise early in the morning and let me look after her all night.

Instead of staying up and watching TV she went to bed about ten o'clock (her work had finished quite early) and I promised I'd keep her company. She wasn't crying or anything but Auntie Emma was out baby sitting and Auntie Casey was already asleep so there was only me to talk to. She poured her heart out to me for a while and I hadn't felt closer to her in a long time. About two in the morning I really really needed to answer a call of nature so I slipped outside. I wasn't inclined to go prowling the neighbourhood so I curled up in my little shelter and thought about what makes us feel good or terrible.

The next day Mum felt a lot better and had a good chat with her own Mum on the telephone. She spent the morning doing little chores about the house which meant I didn't get any good hugs. She kicked me off the internet to read all the comments on various blogs and write some of her own. I told her I'd already said all that needed saying and she argued that telling people I like to make music didn't count.
"Oh really?" I asked, "How are you feeling then? Going to through another hissy fit are we? Want me to leave you alone this time?"
She just smiled in that irresistible way of hers and gave me a hug.
"We all have good days Plumpy, and we all have bad days. I'm glad I can share both with you."

There was nothing left to do but hurumph and stalk off to look for food.