It was that kind of morning.

A morning where the troubles of yesterday and the day before that and all the days before it were thwarted by the bright, fresh atmosphere of a new day. Muted sunlight filtered through the high window located just above the table, where two individuals -- a woman and a mid-adolescent boy -- sat. The light easily glanced off the articles of the room, and if one were to turn their gaze towards the woman's slack figure, they would notice in an instant how the rays reflected softly on her, most apparent now in the shining pearls of her eyes. The woman's lips were curved just so, and though she was past that age where young men would flock simply to win such an expression from her, she shone a sort of admirable youth.

She sighed, and it sounded like a gentle breeze. This morning was itself similar to a little miracle, like the flare of a camera flash, she thought to herself. And there, in front of her, was her son, the light of her life.

The boy chewed noisily on his breakfast, disrupting the peace that the earliness brought, as his mother watched. He tore into his meal, and the fat and oils dripped from his mouth and stained the surface of the table. So engrossed was he in his food that he jumped when his mother idly toyed with her spoon and caused her neatly finished plate to ring.

He stared at her in astonished disbelief.

"Mom!" he shouted. "What just happened there?! You trying to throw me off my groove thang?! It's eight in the morning, my sinuses are loaded with the viral equivalent of the United States Marine Corps, and I don't have enough milk for my raisin bran! Do I have to give you shit?!"

An expression of shock flashed across the woman's features. "Clancy, what are--? Please calm down..."

"Dodging, are we? Aha, I can see through you like I work at Lenscrafters who also polishes the windows on a company skyscraper in a New York boulevard! Not that you can ever see one 'cause you're so poor! Why are you staring at me with your mouth open like that? Yeah, 'cause I'm toooootally the one being crazy right now. Tooooooooooootally."

The boy Clancy rolled his eyes affectedly many times than what was appropriate.

Swallowing, the woman shook her head and spoke, "What are you saying? Why are you angry? Is that attitude necessary right now?"

The youth's face scrunched into itself, and suddenly the soft sunlight felt like fire upon the woman's skin. It crept up and into her skin, and she recoiled suddenly as if burned.

"Pretentious, holier-than-thou, I-don't-know-anything act now, is it? Is Clinton my grandfather? But I guess I can't really say that because if it were true those bad politics could lead us down a slippery slope shaped like a mollusk. Ha ha ha! Why aren't you laughing? That joke never gets old so eat shit!" Clancy hollered disdainfully. "You're gonna parrot some bullshit like you're an armchair psychologist now, ain'tcha? Armchair psychologists only stay on their armchairs 'cause they're so old, y'know! So which is it?! Parrot or psychologist? Or maybe you're a transgender parrot and/or psychologist which makes you disgusting!"

It was the sneer. That damned sneer. It blanketed her vision and darkened the room, and so she closed her eyes to it. She stomped her foot, and, shaking her head, she steeled her voice. "Clancy, I will not have this today. I don't know what's gotten into you recently, but you have been like this for far too long and I am sick and tired of it. Go to your room. Now. We will talk about your aggressive behavior when your father is home. I want some peace and quiet right now."

She sighed again and this time it sounded like a stiff gust of wind. Her hung head was turned away from the window and her eyes shone only with weariness. She looked every much her age in this moment.

"You're like every mother in the world, trying to push your feminist ideals down my throat! Aggressive? See, I knew it! It's 'cause of my muh-soggy-knee right? Holy shit, how did I not see this before?! Also, what's this about going to my room? You gonna pin me down on my bed and have your way with me?! You shotacon! And get your mouth off Dad's **** like some puny little barnacle that no likes looking at because it's so damn ugly and probably smells like fish that I'd throw into a vat of frying oil in a heartbeat, which I won't have if I eat too much fried food! I mean, I've tried sucking dicks before and I can tell you it ain't fun! Like how Steve Jobs isn't having any fun now! Ha ha ha ha HA HA! Are you Steve Jobs? Naw, can't be, 'cause no one likes you and you don't have cancer, because you ARE cancer! Woop!

"But whatever! I'm goin' to my room now, but just so you know I'm doing it ironically. Toooooooooooooooooootally. I'm being ironic, see! Just like this --"

-Clancy straightened both his palms, thrust out his hips, and struck his pelvis on either side of his genitals with the edge of his hands-

"-- is ironic! HA! Are my words killing you?! Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be lounging in my room like your so-called definition of "fudgepacker" where the magic happens if you know what I mean but ew gross if you do that means you really DO think of me like that which means you ARE a kid-diddler and like a reverse Oedipus Complexer but anyway that's where I'll be reading up on Fate/Stay Night which has way more world building, power levels, and damn good action scenes than this place while getting high even though I really shouldn't be doing that while playing games and jacking it..."

The youth stormed off, taking his aimless ramblings with him.

Gone was the brightness of the day, but at last it was quiet again.

All the mother could do was sit down and cry.