peacemaker tender_square dad and i were trying to get the hinges right on the interior door for the third time when mom called. her lunch with a girlfriend turned into a four-hour gabfest; she didn't realize how late it was and that dad was with me, that he'd swung by my place to give me a hand with house projects. she let me go so i could get back to holding heavy door. then, she called back some ten minutes later. i didn't answer. dad's phone began to ring and he put it on speaker. "how long have you been gone?" she demanded. he stammered, i could tell he didn't know. "uh, i think he got here around one," i stepped in. "why?" i knew something happened and wondered if ruby had made a mess in her cage. the anger could not be curbed in mom's voice, "you left the front door wide open, unlocked. and you left the back door unlocked, too." dad handed me his phone and continued to turn the screws, the edge in mom's voice rising. "answer me, why did you do that?" i felt like it was my fault. when dad had called and asked if he was coming by, i said we needed a saw to cut trim. "well, i'm going to have to go back in the house," he sighed. then, he called me back a second time to repeat the question, and to ask again whether i wanted coffee. he was flustered when he left, his hands were full, he had too much on his mind. after mom's outburst, i told him we should stop for the day, leave the door for another time. he put on his shoes and his coat and didn't close the door behind him when he left either. i know my mother is scared and that's where the anger comes from; her world is shrinking alongside his. she's realizing she may not have as much freedom to leave the house if dad's not supervised. and when i defend him, when i say it's not his fault for what's happening to his memory, i'm made to feel like i'm giving him a pass, that somehow weakening standards is to infantilize him, when her scolding is like a mother reprimanding her child. 230307 what's it to you? who go blather from