Morgan's Weird Mom

Morgan's mom was so weird. For whatever reason, all evening, the woman was riding so high that Morgan began to wonder if she had been experimenting with ****. Everything was "Great!" or "Wonderful!" or "Fantastic!", over and over! Even when Morgan and her brother William began to argue over some stupid thing, their mother only stared at them with a big stupid grin on her face and to them, "I'm just so lucky to have such amazing children," then left the room, leaving the siblings staring at her dumbfounded.

"Just because she's happy, doesn't mean that something is wrong," William had told her after dinner.

"Shut up, dork," Morgan snapped, not in the mood to be placated by her idiot brother, "I can tell when something is wrong, and something is definitely wrong with her."

William had just sighed, shook his head, and excused himself to his room, leaving Morgan alone with her thoughts. It wasn't just her mother's mood that had bothered her. She was all touchy.

Not like perverted touchy. Gross. No, but like, June Cleaver touchy. It was as if every time she got within arms reach of Morgan, her mom would go for a hug. In some families that would have been normal, but not in theirs. Their family was physically distant. They didn't hug. They avoided touching. Something had happened. Something weird.

Through the ceiling, Morgan could hear footsteps in the hallway between bedrooms, then a door closing. William probably going to the bathroom before he got sucked into his video games for the rest of the night. Their mom had gone upstairs a few minutes earlier, too. Despite it being Saturday, she had gone in and put some hours in at the office. The woman was probably exhausted, although by her behaviour Morgan could see no sign of it. Maybe that was it. Maybe something had happened at work. Maybe there had been good news, something she couldn't share with Morgan and William yet. Whatever it was, Morgan decided, it could wait until morning. If her mom wanted to be weird, she could keep being weird for one more night. At breakfast she'd get to the bottom of things.