People here have the advantage of understanding a point in poetry existing, and the idea of imagination not just leading to how to get away with doing something you could get locked up over, or making yourself seen as so do-lally so you end up with the bloke no one else wants.
Yes she was a miserable cow, but you can argue she's trying to keep her daughter thinking about what matters now which might well be get food down her, her homework done and not be in trouble in school again.
For all you know she's come from parents evening having just been told she comes out with nonsense answers in class, and keeps pretending to be a cat, and needs to focus more and play less.
It's easy to see what we want to see.
Yesterday a visably middle class mum was hurrying along with a screaming well dressed 2 year old in a buggy. She wasn't strapped in, and suddenly face planted straight out of the buggy with a terrible scream onto the concrete, screaming harder as mum accidently ran her over and trod on her.
Mum didn't speak just scooped her and tried to stuff her rigid, grazed and raging back in to buggy, I'd stood back up for her, using her knee in the child's stomach in the end to force her in and an elbow in her chest to strap her in. Child threw it's returned beaker away, and threw it's hat off, mum just dumped them in a bag, ignored me pointing out her hands and head were bleeding, told me she was making a fuss for attention, refused a wet wipe to deal with the grazing, and still not speaking to her pushed the child round a supermarket raging and grazed and out again by now hysterical. No cuddle, no concern. Just nothing.
I know what I think I saw and it made me sad and angry, but I know I also don't, if you see what I mean.