I could be the only child in existence who has not been abused, and yet despises the sound of her mother's voice. Usually, it's only when I'm frustrated -- like now, as I'm weeping pitifully because I have recently realized that I've screwed up approximately two sixths of my life -- but I've noticed my annoyance with her tends to appear on other occasions, too.

And I've picked up a loathing for her laughter (Lord, have mercy), and how frequently she bellows at absolutely everything that comes across on television. Loudly. At ten o' clock, when I should be sleeping (but am really spewing salty water because of how messed up my future is going to be, although I can't even do that in peace, due to my mother's blasphemous snorting).

Understand, I don't dislike my mother. Nay, I truly do love her. I simply dislike her voice in any one of its numerous, disgusting forms. As well as her heavy footfalls on our hardwood floors, which creaked to begin with, but now groan in terrorized agony because my mother stomps to her every destination.

Of course, I can't say that I hate that quite so much as her unnaturally explosive sneezing. And sniffing. Which my dad also does.

He has a sinus infection the size of Kilimanjaro.

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