Saturday, August 15, 2015


When I was a child my mother hated everything related to parenting. It was all a chore. For dinner she made one of two things for us every night: hamburger or cheese ravioli. "Your favorite foods!" she said. "Not every night" I replied. She hired a live-in Barbados maid to clean the house and serve us lunch and dinner so she could stay away at lunch and have date night with my father, every night. We were not happy. My siblings and I fought like hell during meal time. When my step-father came home I was so excited to tell him about my day at school. He would snap at me "What about MY DAY? Why don't you ask me about MY DAY?" When it was vacation time my mother drugged us with Dramamine so we'd pass out in the back of the station wagon so she'd have peace and quiet in the car to chat with my dad, uninterrupted. And people ask me why I don't have kids.