When Wyatt Perry got home that evening and saw the slap marks on his mother's face, he didn't even bother with a greeting.
Mama Perry grumbled discontentedly, "I must have raised a fake son, doesn't care about his old mother at all. One day when old mama gets beaten to death, he won't shed a single tear. Hmph, my Claudia Ross is the best, she cares about me the most."
Wyatt's lips curled in a half-smile, half-mockery, "Mom, how do you want me to show my concern for you?"
"I don't expect you to be like Claudia, bringing ice for my face, but a simple greeting would do, right?"
Seeing Wyatt reach for the food, Mama Perry quickly took the Kung Pao chicken away from in front of him, "Eat, eat, eat, that's all you know."
"How about I ask if your face still hurts?"
Wyatt tried not to laugh, helplessly watching his mother act childishly upset.
"Of course it hurts."
"So what difference does it make if I ask or not?"