Officer Maude

"Officer Maude’s on the march." Or so we'd say when my mother went on a rampage. She’d begin by listing her grievances: hunger, fatigue, bank hours, sibling quarrels, messy house, etc. (the lists always started the same “I’m hungry, I’m tired…”). And since she was too busy making these lists, she would get nothing done.  But about an hour later she would succumb to hunger, start to make toast, forget about it, burn it, and settle for spoonfuls of peanut butter. The sugar acting as a sedative, she’d collapse in a heap on her bed, glasses knocked askew. Officer down.