Disclaimer: Seriously applicable.
AN: This drabble popped into my head on the way home after work the other night. It was supposed to be lighthearted and somewhat humorous but I failed in that this time around. However it isn't angsty either so I suppose it's just a little odd. In all honesty I'm just thrilled that I can still write for GW.
Stepping the Line
by Wicked Child
What was that childhood saying?
Step on a crack; break your mama's back. Step on a line, your mama drinks wine.
It something that she would normally never had heard in the society she lived. However, knowing one extraordinary boy who had grown up a street rat of sorts brought this saying to her attention. At first she thought it silly and told him so with good humor. He didn't mind at all and told her he thought so too but had always made sure not to step on any cracks or lines in the sidewalk just in case. It didn't matter to him that he didn't have any real mother, but there had been a wonderful nun that he felt was a good substitute and decided that the saying could apply to that woman thereby rendering marred sidewalks dangerous.
As she watched her mother uncork her third bottle of Chardonnay, she began to think that the saying was true. In her memory she couldn't ever really remember actually walking on a sidewalk until she was too big to ride on her father's shoulders. Even though she hadn't considered herself a child since she met another extraordinary boy, and her life took on a whole different meaning, she figured the saying was still applicable.
When her mother downed another full glass of the Chardonnay and poured another, she came to the conclusion that she was a very horrible daughter. How many lines did she walk on? How many steps did she take? It was silly to blame her mother's predicament on a childhood superstition instead of her mother's inability to handle her husband's death, but it was easier to blame herself and her own faults than it was to blame her precious mother.
After declining another glass for herself she was ever more positive that she was in fact a horrible daughter. She remembered distinctly stepping on every single line on the sidewalk on the way back from the shuttle port all those years ago.
"Step on a line, your mama drinks wine."
"What was that dear?"
She smiled sadly. "Nothing Mother. Would you like me to get you another bottle?"
"That would be lovely! You are such a sweetheart Relena."
She smiled again before making the trek to the wine cellar. Distantly she heard her mother say she wanted to try some Sauvignon.
She really was a horrible daughter. Still she avoided any cracks in the basement floor.