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“Shouldn't we wash the pillow cases on these pillows?”
I say while thinking back to my face in the mirror breaking out, covered in grotesque red bumps my pimples have past the point of being categorized as blemishes- more like growths that have taken over my face 
“Yes, actually everything needs to be washed but I can't afford to be spending my money on it”
She lights up a fresh Newport as she watches me fold another mound of blankets
“What is it, a few quarters?” I say
In comparison, that’s only about a week's worth of cigarettes and dime bags
“Actually the dryers would only be able to take one blanket at a time, so that would be $1.25 for each blanket.” You take a long hit from the cigarette while thinking about the calculations, trying to make it look like there is some complex formula swirling through your head “... also the pillowcases” you breathe out a long, cancerous exhale and flick the half lit cigarette onto the ashtray, it misses and ash falls to the floor. “...so with everything included... that would be around 18 dollars that i'm not willing to give up. Too bad .” I think about rolling my eyes but instead continue to fold blankets and breathe in secondhand smoke 
“I'm just trying to save our money as much as possible. Lord knows we've had to live on little enough.” she says 
She likes to say our money which makes me want to laugh 
Of course she is able to pick up on my subtle change in emotion based on the whole mother’s intuition thing 
she looks at me and smiles “everything is going to be fine.” 
I don't look at her, but smile and say “I know”

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