**Diary Entry 6th October**
Mum needed me to take my little brother, Tommy, to his first day at primary school. I refused.
*”You had him for yourselves, not meso you deal with him. I need sleep before my lectures.”*
*”Oliver, I hardly ever ask,”* she said, pleading. *”Just this once. Its his first dayall the other kids will have their parents there.”*
*”Exactly,”* I cut in. *”Their parents. Where were mine at my assemblies? Always with the baby. Let him go alonehe wont break.”*
She looked lost. After everything theyd done for mekeeping me fed, clothedI couldnt be bothered to lift a finger.
*”Fine,”* she sighed, firming her voice. *”You live in this family, Oliver. That means helping out. We pay your phone bill, cook your meals, even tidy your mess. The least you could do is return the favour.”*
*”I never asked you to clean my room. And I dont need your moneyIm eighteen. Im not a nanny, and my opinion should count for something.”*
I grabbed my mug and left. Mum stayed behind, weighed down by the thought that her son had turned selfish.
When did it happen?
Her first marriage was a disaster. My real dad never grew upmore interested in lounging about, glued to his phone, than stepping up. Eventually, Mum left.
Then came James. He was decenttook to me like a proper stepdad. But when Tommy was born, things shifted.
I was ten the first time I walked to school alone. Mum was still recovering, James was working, and grandparents were miles away.
*”Ollie, love, youll manage, wont you? Id go if I could…”*
*”Yeah. Im not a kid.”*
I went without complaint. But I remembered.
Three years later, it happened againTommy caught something at nursery. He was always ill. Once, he brought home chickenpox days before my class trip to York. I missed it.
*”Mum, I get it, but Im sick of catching his germs. Cant you quarantine him?”*
*”Were a family, Oliver. We share the same space.”*
She wasnt wrong. But resentment built. Soon, I dodged choreshalf-arsing them or leaving them undone.
*”Why should I clean the living room? Im never in there.”*
*”But you use the kitchen, and I clean that.”*
*”You obsess over every crumb. I wouldnt careyou want it spotless, you do it.”*
Mum forced me sometimes. Other times, she let it slide. Less hassle.
Then came Tommys first dayno grandparents, James away, Mum stuck at work. I flat-out refused.
James was livid when she called him. *”If he wants independence, let him try. No more lifts, no more favours.”*
Mum panicked. *”What if he leaves us for good?”*
*”Let him. See how he manages without us.”*
In the end, her friend Lucy stepped in, taking Tommy and even treating him to the park. Mum was grateful but uneasy.
Lucyonly twenty-sixunderstood me. *”I was the eldest too. Always babysitting. You pushed him too hardhe doesnt see the point in scrubbing floors or minding Tommy. But hes not wrong. You did have Tommy for yourselves.”*
*”I just want fairness,”* Mum argued.
*”Your fairness isnt his. Two options: cut him off cold or let him live alone. Rent him a flatlet him figure it out.”*
Mum feared Id drop out or vanish. But Lucy shrugged. *”If he bolts, he bolts. I didmarried young to escape.”*
So they did it. A flat two streets over, two months rent paid, fridge stocked.
*”So youre kicking me out?”* I muttered, taking the keys.
*”No,”* James said. *”Youre welcome homeas a guest. But living together means give and take. Were still helpingthis is a start. The rest is up to you.”*
I grumbled but left. For a month, I ignored calls, only visible by my lit window at night.
ThenslowlyI reached out. *”How do you clean an oven?”* *”Whats the best washing powder?”* Once, *”How do you make soup?”*
Mum showed me, fed me, sent me off with groceries. *”We miss you.”*
I didnt reply. Just hugged her tight.
By month three, the rent ran out. I struggled silently until finally*”I want to come home. But fair. Tommys your responsibility.”*
Mum mightve snapped before. Now, she saw my point.
James frowned. *”Hes your brother.”*
*”Enough,”* Mum cut in. *”Olivers rightTommys ours. But chores? Non-negotiable.”*
We struck a deal: Id clean the bathroom weekly, mop the hall twice a week, dust the living room monthly. My room? My rules.
The tension melted. I even offered to cook sometimes*”Easier than doing it alone.”*
That night, we ate togetherproperlyfor the first time in ages. Just mashed potatoes and sausages, but it tasted like peace.
Mum realised thenId grown up. And so had she. We were learning: less pushing, more listening.
**Lesson learned:** Sometimes, stepping back is the only way forward.
