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She always told herself she would never be like those other mothers.
The ones who became emotional at everything . Enid was one of those. Seeing her own son make it to each milestone was enough for the tears to come out.
Wednesday strived to be better than that. She wasn’t going to let any of this, which happened to practically every child out there, make her emotional or otherwise affected.
And then her child stopped calling her ‘Mama’ which felt like a punch to her stomach.
“I don’t wanna call you Mama anymore.”
He couldn’t have picked a better time- at the dinner table no less. Dean looked very seriously at her, as this was a life changing moment for him.
And perhaps it was. The light atmosphere changed, the slight conversation she was engaged in with Tyler ceased. Her husband had stopped eating. He glanced at her, obviously wondering what her reaction to this might be.
Wednesday focused on cutting up her chicken. Something inside of her was...not well. Her stomach seemed to burn, her appetite starting to disappear.
It had come out of nowhere and she was not prepared for it.
Wednesday sat her silverware down, looking him square in the eyes. “Why is that?”
“That’s what babies do,” Dean declared. “I’m not a baby.”
Wednesday pressed her lips together. She was aware this transition was...coming. Enid had warned her when she, Ajax and Aiden came over for Dean’s seventh birthday. But she had to admit that she didn’t think it would be happening so soon. He’d called her ‘Mama’ since he could talk, and now all of the sudden, it was too juvenile to him?
She cut into her meat with a little more force than needed.
It was feeble logic at best! He was still a young child. A young child, might she add, that still requested to be read a story at bedtime and to be tucked in by the both of them.
And he wanted to call her, what, Mom? What else would he want to change?
“How did you come to that conclusion?” She said shortly. Dean was none the wiser to her tone.
“School,” Dean chirped. “That’s what the other kids said.”
“School?” Wednesday repeatedly flat.
“That’s fine, Buddy,” Tyler said, smiling encouragingly at Dean. “You can do that.”
Wednesday glared at him for his interference.
“Isn’t that fine , Wednesday?” Tyler said, giving her a look of his own.
“Of course,” Wednesday said, her tone just short of a sneer. “It’s perfectly fine .”
Tyler tried to reach out to her underneath the table. She shoved his hand away, her mood souring.
“Baby,” he whispered. She ignored him. Dean was licking some salad dressing off his finger. “ I’m sorry , but we shouldn’t discourage this.”
“I’m not talking about this,” Wednesday hissed.
Tyler opened his mouth but Dean had something to interject instead.
“Daddy, can we watch Spiderman when we’re done? Please ?”
Now hold on -
“You don’t consider calling your father ‘Daddy’ to be childish?” Wednesday said, a mixture of irritation and, though she loathed to admit it, hurt seeping through.
“No,” Dean said, like it was supposed to make sense.
She got to her feet abruptly. “I’m finished,” she said, walking over to the trash can to dump the remains of her plate in there. Then, she looked over at them. Tyler was trying to catch her eye. He was clearly feeling sorry for her, intending on talking about this and that was exactly what she didn’t want. “I’m going to write. Don’t disturb me.”
On Wednesday’s way out, she heard Dean ask Tyler, “Is Mom okay?”
Her pace quickened after that.