Happy Friday and thanks for dropping by Slush Sleuth! Follow Friday is a weekly meme hosted by the lovely Parajunkee's View and Alison Can Read, where we all get together and say "Hi!" This week's question...
This Sunday in the U.S. is Mother’s Day, in celebration, what are some of your favorite books with strong mother/child relationships?
Confession: I am completely and totally a mommy's girl. I mean, how could I not be? I was born the day before Mother's Day, and my birthday is the same day this year! And just sayin', but I was basically the best Mother's Day present a mom could get because I'm awesome (something I learned to be from her).
So obviously I love discovering YA novels with a solid mother-daughter relationship (is it just me, or does it seem like YA tends to focus on the father-daughter relationship more?) My favorite mother-daughter pair is hands down from Cynthia Hand's Unearthly series, which I absolutely adore. I identify more with Clara than any other character I've encountered (minus the part angel bit!), so it makes perfect sense to me that she has this wonderful relationship with her mom too. Below, I posted a hilarious scene between the two of them that I love--don't worry, no spoilers for those who haven't read Unearthly! Part of what made me laugh so hard when reading it was how easily I could imagine having this same conversation with my Mom, and how slap happy the two of us would get.
(And Mom? If you're reading this, I love you!)
I shrug. Then, because that’s what I always do, I tell her everything… [spoiler lines removed]… And I tell her about Bozo.
“Bozo?” she says with her quiet smile when I’m finally done talking.
“Yeah. Although one guy decided to go with Hot Bozo.” I sigh and drink a swallow of tea. It burns my tongue. “I’m a freak.”
Mom playfully shoves me. “Clara! They called you hot.”
“Um, not exactly,” I say.
“Don’t go feeling too sorry for yourself. We should think of some other ones.”
“Other names they could call you. So if you ever hear them again you’ll be prepared with a comeback.”
“Pumpkinhead,” I repeat slowly.
“That was a major insult when I was a kid.”
“Back in what, 1900?”
She pours herself some more tea. “I got Pumpkinhead many times. They also called me Little Orphan Annie, which was a popular poem back then. And Maggot. I hated Maggot.”
It’s hard for me to imagine her as a child, let alone one that other kids picked on. It makes me feel slightly (but only slightly) better about being called Bozo.
“Okay, what else you got?”
“Let’s see. Carrots. That’s another common one.”
“Somebody already called me that,” I admit.
“Oh, oh—Pippi Longstocking.”
“Oh, snap,” I laugh. “Bring it on, Matchstick!”
And so on it goes, back and forth until we’re both laughing hysterically and Jeffrey appears in the doorway, glaring.
“I’m sorry, “ Mom says, still giggling wildly. “Did we wake you?”
“No. I have wrestling.” He brushed past us to the refrigerator, gets out a carton of orange juice, pours himself a glass, drinks it in about three gulps, and sets it on the counter while we try to simmer down.
I can’t help it. I turn to Mom.
“Are you a member of the Weasley family?” I ask.
“Nice one, Ginger Nut,” she shoots back.
“What does that even mean? But you, you definitely have gingervitis.”
And off we go again like a couple of hyenas.
How about y'all, are you mommy's girls like me? Leave a comment and let me know, and I'll be sure to stop by and check out your blog!