She must have felt it happening.
The way she couldn’t keep us in line anymore.
My mother did what she could, even designed and implemented a behavior modification program. She used poster board and felt-tip markers to create a chart with columns and rows, said she wanted us to share in the housework. Things were different now, she said, and she needed our help. Washing dishes. Sweeping floors. Scrubbing the bathtub. Next to each name was a list of tasks and corresponding rewards. She took great care in drawing the lines and explaining the rules. We earned points for doing a job. We traded points for treats. But after a few days of working to earn the same hot chocolate packets and cookies we got for free at Mar’s house, we abandoned our chores, and the chart became a silly flag flapping on the inside of the kitchen cabinet.