A Series of Drabbles: Day 11

Eleventh of December, 2011


Todays Word of the Day


Matronly 

1. In the capacity of  a matron; serving as a housekeeper or head nurse.
2. Exuding the authority, wisdom, power, and intelligence of an experienced woman
3. Having the appearance of a mature woman, often of larger physical stature and somewhat unkempt or dowdy. 

I’ve only had one traditional mother and that’s not my actual mother. I don’t know how exactly we got onto this subject while lying roadside looking at a compound straight ahead while attempting to assist a recon group doing their job. We had just been pulled out by them when they got a new mission.

Mike was lying next to me, observing quietly for a little while and then suddenly said “These kids look like they’re having the time of their fucking life,” I gaze to my side at him.

“You didn’t have fun like that when you were a kid?”

“Hell yeah, I did, brother. I grew up in the country side. I was never in the house. How about you?”

“City kid,” I say lowly. “I moved to the suburb though, when my mom gave up raising me.”

“You a trouble-kid?”

“No, she’s the one who was trouble. Had trouble keeping her nose clean. My aunt, though,” I said with a little softer voice. “She always treated me like a proper son, always in the kitchen… Shit, I miss proper cooking.” He chuckled.

“Heads up,” Paul said, next to us, kicking me in the shin. I blinked a few times, letting my eyes get used to seeing through the binoculars again. “Male, at my two, window,” He continued.

“I’ve got visual.” I sent it off through the radio letting the group leader decide what to do. We were told to stay put, keep our eyes of the compound, one male is hardly an army.

“What about you, Paul?”

“Suburb, mum, dad, brother, good upbringing, nothing really to write home about.” I took a few deep breaths, steadying myself against my weapon. We watch the village for a long while longer but nothing happens other than kids playing and the women milling about, getting on with their daily life.

We’re air lifted back to base while the recon group sets out again. I’m dead tired and I’m just about ready to just sleep wherever I am but my training prevents me from doing exactly that, I’m not going to sleep until we’re back at base. My mind drifts back and forth a little bit but mostly centers around the wonderful person that is my aunt. She’s everything those corny tv mothers everyone from my generation grew up advertised. Kris and I, we caught the lucky stick for once in our life. She’s a stay at home wife, no kids of her own, something I haven’t given much thought. She took care of us, made three meals a day plus snacks. She kept our clothes clean, the house was spotless and she was always happy, always just there. She’s the mother we were supposed to have. 

Word Count: 456

Fun Factor: 5/5

Fun Fact: I've been into reading/ watching anything I can find about the military this includes various memoirs and the very latest thing, a mini TV series called Generation Kill. It's great.