It was a warm, summer afternoon as I was walking home from a tired day of school. I had very little homework, since school had recently started, and I was only in the sixth grade. As I was walking home, I passed a front yard with a little boy (who looked about five years old) playing soccer with his father. As I started walking past them, I caught myself staring at them, and looked away. “I wish my father did that with me when I was little.” I muttered to myself. I sighed, and continued to walk home. It had been nine years since my mom and my dad divorced, and I haven’t really been spending time with him (not that I even remember what he did with me).  When I got home, I smelled something…….something good!

     My mother was in the kitchen, cooking some curries. “Are you working from home?” I asked, “No” she replied. “Our boss gave us the day off, not really sure why though.” She kept on talking, “How was school? Do you have any homework? Any new friends? Are you happy with your teachers?” I said yes to all of them, just to get it over with. She told me to get started on my homework, as she chopped up some onions. “For homework I just have a permission slip, that needs to get signed.” I said. “Hand it here, please” she said. I handed it to her. She gladly signed it and gave it back. “Are you okay? You’ve been kind of sad ever since you came home today from school.”. “I’m fine” I lied to her.

     I just couldn’t stop thinking about the boy and the father that I saw on the way home. I wanted to talk to someone about this, so I thought if anyone, it’s my mom. “Mom……...can we talk? Just for a second?” “Sure, just let finish up stirring this curry.” After about four minutes, she finished and sat down to talk to me. “So what’s going through your mind?” she asked. “I…...I was wondering if you’ve considered anyone to…...you know……….be a good father figure for m-” “We’ve been over this” she interrupted sternly. “You know how hard it is to find a good husband for me, and a good father figure for you in the same person.” “It’s easy to find a husband for me, not easy to find a father for you.” she said softly. “Try harder!” I blurted. I cupped my hands over my mouth. “I’m sorry” I whispered.

     She looked at me with a curious expression. “Why are you all of a sudden wanting a father now?” she asked. “Do you REALLY want me to tell you?” “Yes.” I told her about seeing the five year old boy and his father. “I know your father hasn’t been in your life that much. Please, bare with me. It’s not that he’s dead or anything. You visited him this summer.” “He didn’t do anything with me! All he does is care for those annoying parents of his, that annoy me 24/7! He neglects me!” I yelled. This time, I wasn’t ashamed for yelling.

     My mom got furious, “Go to your room” she said harshly. I let out a huge sigh and made my way to my room, stomping on the way up the stairs. As I got to my room, I looked in the mirror, only to realize my face was red and I was crying. “Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut” I said to myself. I took a pillow and started hugging it very roughly. “I don’t need a father figure” I kept on saying to myself. For a short second, I questioned myself. “Why do I even need a father figure”.            

     When I stopped crying, I went down stairs to the living room, to see my mom sobbing and talking to someone on the phone. I tip toed behind her and gave her a hug and said “I love you, and I’m sorry.” She said, “We can talk about this later.” I decided to call my dad, maybe to cheer me up. I found his number on a sticky note and called him. It went straight to voicemail. I let out a large yell and threw the home phone into the wall, luckily it didn’t break. After about a half an hour of throwing a tantrum, I hear my mom calling me from downstairs.

      I descended downstairs to talk to my mom. She was waiting on the couch for me. I immediately started apologizing to her, but she said that wasn’t why she called me down. “I know that it’s hard for you, but you know that I’ve tried. Every man I talk to, they’re either arrogant, or have no absolute experience in raising a child,” she explained. “I’ve given you more than two parents could. I’ve been there for you whenever you needed me.” she continued. I felt guilty, if anything she was right. “I guess I’m just jealous because all my friends’ fathers are so kind and compassionate, when mine doesn’t do much. I guess I’m overreacting,” I said. “I’ll keep on trying to find you a good father, but until th-” “You don’t have to” I interrupted. My mom looked confused, so I explained what I meant. “I’m fine with having a fantastic mother, I don’t need another father.” “Thank you” she replied. I guess I wanted to have a good father figure, but I was too stupid to realize something. I have the best mother…….in the entire world.