The Bendersons: Kidnapped at K7 by Leanne Schroder - HTML preview
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I returned to find Mum near the airport and her luggage looking angry. “That is where you are, Tam, leaving me like that,” Mum barked.
The young air hostess who had seen what happened took my side. “Hey Ma'am, you were the one that knocked the coffee over and I think you are being unreasonable to her as she had to clean her jeans off. Are you on this flight Ma'am?”
“Yes I am,” I smiled, seeing Mum’s annoyed face.
“Now Tam, would you mind to carry my port to the plane? I am feeling a little wobbly,” said Mum, trying to push my buttons.
“Mmmmmm, it is too high up the steps, Mum. I am overtired and might fall,” I sighed, wishing the hell she would disappear. I went over to the plane carrying the two ports and it wasn’t until I nearly fell over that the hostess came to my aid.
“What are you doing carrying those two ports yourself,” she said concerned for my well being.
“Well Mum said she was too wobbly.”
“Yes I have heard of con artists before, but it appears she needs to hear it from somebody else. Don’t you worry. Where is she sitting?”
“In this seat over there,” I faltered, wondering what she was going to do as she carried my port and guided me to where Mum was sitting with her smug face.
“Oh there you are, Tam,” Mum said.
“Yes she is, and you’re a little selfish to let your daughter carry up those two ports and she fell. Carry your own ports in future,” the young hostess said.
“It is heavy and I am feeling wobbly,” Mum retorted.
“Poppycock! My daughter is in preschool and she can roll her port along,” the hostess said and then turned to me. “Ma'am, don’t allow her to take control. Just let her be and she will do it on her own.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“Just tell her a thing or two and be firm,” she said.
If I thought the flight was going to be easier, boy was I sadly mistaken as Mum kept insisting that I pour her drinks. Simply stated, Mum is constantly being a perpetual pain in the posterior and never allows me to relax one bit. Luckily, the hostess walked up and said, “Now Ma'am, you have allowed your daughter to run after you and do your food. Isn’t it about time you did it yourself,” she said firmly.
“I am old. 80 you know,” said Mum flatly.
“Well my grandmother is 90 and still mows her own lawn and cooks for herself,” said the young hostess. Mum looked hurt as the hostess continued, “If you keep going like that you will never do a thing for yourself. Is that what you really want to be? A cactus woman,” said the hostess as she walked on and winked at me.
“Are you putting that young woman up against me, Tam,” asked Mum.
“No! WTF? Flaming hell!” I looked at her face...the lines on that smug face…I could have killed her right there and then with my eyes blaring like daggers.