My name is Deanna and I am the mother of two wonderful children, Lisa and Jason. Both attend college, but Lisa still lives at home with me as her college is close to where we live. Jason visits when he can, but it is never as often as I would like. They are both involved in several sports, just like their father was before his passing. I enjoy watching sports, but have never had any desire or talent to play anything physically demanding the way my family does.
Lisa received most of her looks from her father. Her shoulder length red hair and green eyes are definitely from him, as is all of her facial features. She is even an inch taller than me, which is identical to my husband. It seems like the only thing we physically share is our breast size, which happens to be a C cup. Of course, as with any woman my age, they are just starting to get stretch marks from gravity. It isn't anything my daughter has to worry about for quite some time.
Jason received most of his looks from me. He shares my brown hair, which he keeps short like his father did, and has my brown eyes. We even share the same height. He has all of my facial features and there is no denying he is my son. In fact, the only thing he seems to have gotten from his father is his athleticism.
When my husband passed, I wanted to lock myself inside my room and never leave. It was my children who managed to get me past the darkness that threatened to completely overwhelm me and eventually to the point of being able to smile again. I miss him terribly, but the family has grown much stronger since losing him. My children managed to put aside all their petty squabbling in order to pull me from my darkness and they never returned to those idiotic fights over nothing.
Lisa is going to be home late, since she is starting practice for some new sport at school. Between the two of them, I have lost track how many sports related activities they are involved in. I think she said track, but I could be a ways off on that one. Neither of my kids get upset with me when I can't recall what they are doing at any given time, since they are both fully aware that there are just too many to keep it all straight. As long as I show up to some of their events, they are both satisfied.
I decide to take advantage of her delay by taking a much needed bath. I am in my bedroom and remove all of my clothes, then look at my body in the large mirror on the wall. At forty years of age, most of my body still looks good, but there is no hiding the sagging of my ass to match my tits. I look down and inspect my pubic area to determine if there is any trimming needed and find not one brown hair sticking too far out. I started trimming down there for my husband shortly after getting married and never bothered to stop. It's my way of honoring his memory.
I start to turn towards my attached bathroom, but a noise at the front door stops me. It sounds like someone is trying to turn the knob to see if it is locked and I am worried. I have never been the victim of a theft and have little interest in starting today. I make my way to the phone next to my bed so I can call for help quickly and hear the front door open. A woman's voice calls out and I realize exactly who it is. Well, so much for my bath.
Lisa calls out, "Mom, where are you?"
I breathe a sigh of relief and say, "In my room. Why are you home early from practice, Lisa?"
I hope I can still take a much needed bath. Generally, when she gets home early, it means practice has been cancelled. However, there is always the possibility of some minor injury. I swear, between the two of them, I have more than my share of sports related injuries.
She calls back, "Hurt myself at practice and coach sent me home."
Well, at least it isn't a call from the hospital, meaning nothing broken. I know a bath is completely out of the question now and start to walk out my room. I realize I am completely naked, so I grab a robe and tie the front quickly before making my way to the living room. She is sitting on the couch and the angle enables me to see she is wearing her athletic shorts and a t-shirt. There is no missing the grimace on her face, which I can just get a glimpse of her profile and I know there is something causing pain to course through her body. My nose catches the scent of something pleasant mixed in with her sweat and I wonder if she found a new perfume.
I move so I am standing directly in front of her and ask, "What happened, Lisa? Are you alright?"
She winces a little as she rubs her calf and says, "No, mom. I think I might have sprained my muscle. It really hurts."
At least we're not dealing with a torn one, so it won't take long for her to heal up and get back to school on Monday. As far as I can recall, she doesn't have any games this weekend, so she will have the entire time to rest and heal before doing anything physical. I move closer catch a strong scent of body odor that is emanating from my daughter along with whatever she is wearing, but have grown very used to things like that. It stopped bothering a long time ago, since I have been dealing with unpleasant smells from my extremely active children for a great many years.
I ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
She groans through the pain and says, "Cut the damn thing off and give me a new one. This hurts like hell." She tries to laugh, but the pain prevents her from doing so.
I say, "Instead of cutting it off, maybe all you need is a good massage."
Lisa nods and winces a little, then says, "A massage sounds good, mom. Damn, my whole body is killing me."
I look at her with sympathy, since I have been there myself on far too many occasions and say, "Let me help you into my room and get these disgusting clothes off of your body. You can lay on my bed and I can give you a proper massage."
She has a questioning look on her face as she asks, "Why can't you just give my calf muscle a massage? That way I won't have walk any further on this damned thing." As an afterthought, she asks, "Why do I need to take all my clothes off for a massage?"
I maintain my very real look of sympathy and say, "You said your whole body is sore. I can't massage your body, if your wearing clothes. As for massaging you here, there isn't enough room on the couch and the floor's not anywhere near as comfortable to lay on as my bed."
