The Mom Look

Seeing "the look" for the first time 300-word flash

The Mom Look

“When we go into this store, don’t look at anything, don’t touch anything, don't talk,” my mother said.
Being seven and hyperactive, it was a tall order. I tried, but I caved. I ran to the toys and did everything she warned me not to.
When she caught up with me, Mom touched my shoulder. I stopped and looked up at her. Her eyes were hard and there wasn’t a smile anywhere on her face.
I froze. I had never experienced that look before.
“Mom, where did your lips go?”
Without opening them, she made a sound I’d never heard or experienced before. She lifted me into the cart’s child seat and strapped me in. I squirmed, but she didn’t take the hint.
“Be still! If you can’t learn to do as I ask, you’ll stay right where you are,” she snapped. I crumpled my face up, like I would cry.
“No bawling, or I’ll give you something to cry about!” she said when she saw it.
I suddenly knew she would. Why they had lots of wooden spoons here and who knew what else! I sniffed loudly, but she was firm.
I stayed very quiet for what seemed to me a really long time. Finally, we were in the checkout line where all the real temptations were! With both hands, I reached into the candy display that was dazzling me.
Emerging with candy in both hands, I glanced at Mom’s face. The look was back, so I quickly dropped them on the floor. Mom picked them up and returned them to the display.
She marched me out to the car, strapped me in my car seat and loaded the groceries into the trunk. I opened my mouth; when the look came back, I closed it again.