How Was Your Day? | Teen Ink

How Was Your Day?

February 8, 2016
By NightRaven119 GOLD, Sussex, Wisconsin
NightRaven119 GOLD, Sussex, Wisconsin
12 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I’m sitting in the living room at home. I’m minding my own business while I watch TV quietly with my dad. Then my mom gets home. “Hey guys! How are you? How was your day? What did you do in school today?” Question after question comes as if I was sitting in an interrogation room, and I just sit there thinking, Mom, just shutup.

Everyone has their own pet peeves, and this is mine: when someone (particularly my mother) will randomly begin to ask question after question. When I’m home after a long day of school and homework, all I want is quietness and to just chill. I don’t want to be bombarded with questions, especially about how my day was at school. It was school. It wasn’t fun. It wasn’t anything special. It was just school.

Everyday I almost hate when my mom gets home because I know at some point she’ll find me and interrogate me about my day. And it gets even worse if I seem to be in a not so great mood because then I get asked even more questions. “What’s wrong? Are you ok? Did something happen at school? Do you have a lot of homework?” No, it’s just because you won’t stop asking me questions! Sometimes I’ll get so frustrated, I’ll even tell her straight out that she’s annoying me and that I want her to leave. However, that then usually reverts back to the questions of “Is everything ok? Is something bothering you?”

Throughout the evening, it’ll get worse and worse. She will ask more questions while we are eating dinner, watching TV, when I get ready for bed. The questions never end. Sometimes she will even ask the same questions over and over again because she forgot that she already asked it. The questions never stop. When this happens, all I want is peace and quiet from the extensive inquiry. All I want to do is walk away and never have to hear another question about how my day was for the third time in one night.


The author's comments:

In my writing class we had to write a paper about our worst pet peeve, and this was mine.


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