Don’t read my diarrhea.
If it’s not mispronunciations it’s literal interpretations of idioms with an adherence to a request in an Amelia Bedelia like fashion.… Read More Don’t read my diarrhea.
Tag: childhood
Thank you for being a friend…
Thank you… Read More Thank you for being a friend…
They’re my reason
An acquaintance once said to me, “It’s so good to see you haven’t lost yourself in being a mom.” (Before you ask, yes, she’s not a parent and, no, I didn’t claw her eyes out.) I merely smiled, momentarily bit my tongue, and calmly replied, “I’m still me and I’m also a mom.” She tried… Read More They’re my reason
I’m a bad girl.
Boys will be boys and girls will be…victims?… Read More I’m a bad girl.
First out of the gate.
I couldn’t wait to start school and be a part of the world that my siblings disappeared into every day. Being left with a babysitter was becoming embarrassing and isolating. It was akin in childhood terms of going from maximum security prison general population to solitary confinement. Safer but destructive. The babysitter was our neighbor,… Read More First out of the gate.
My first memory
Her hair. I remember sitting below her, holding my hands in a bowl to catch her hair as it fell in chunks from the scissors my father wielded unseen from behind her, and watching the small bits light from the sun as they disappeared onto the floor. I’d never seen anyone with her hair color… Read More My first memory
