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Wednesday – The Whooping
Jul. 15th, 2009 01:00 pm.
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My kid brother Ron has always been weird, from the time he was small. My mother worried it was her fault. She was almost 39 when he was born and had scheduled a tubal ligation immediately after his birth, so he was induced in order to accommodate the surgeon's schedule. In addition to this, my mom's policy was to stop nursing her babies as soon as they got teeth and started to bite. Ron's teeth came in early, at 5 months old. She thought that taking him out of the womb and away from the breast before he was ready may have adversely affected him.
As a child, I was too guilt ridden to tell her that I was pretty sure it was my fault that Ron was weird, because when he was 4 and I was 5 I stood by and let him take an ass beating that I had coming and he didn't. Until Ron was in college and was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, I thought that perhaps this whooping had warped him beyond repair.
My mother died before she got the chance to learn that her youngest child was simply organically and physiologically strange, through no fault of her own. I was glad to be off the hook. Twenty five years after the whooping, I even apologized to Ron about the whooping. I hoped he didn't even remember it, but he did. Decency prevents me from typing out what he said I ought to have done to me for putting him through that, but lets just say he did not graciously accept my apology the way I hoped he would.
( Little Girls Will Look You in The Eye and Lie )
.
.
My kid brother Ron has always been weird, from the time he was small. My mother worried it was her fault. She was almost 39 when he was born and had scheduled a tubal ligation immediately after his birth, so he was induced in order to accommodate the surgeon's schedule. In addition to this, my mom's policy was to stop nursing her babies as soon as they got teeth and started to bite. Ron's teeth came in early, at 5 months old. She thought that taking him out of the womb and away from the breast before he was ready may have adversely affected him.
As a child, I was too guilt ridden to tell her that I was pretty sure it was my fault that Ron was weird, because when he was 4 and I was 5 I stood by and let him take an ass beating that I had coming and he didn't. Until Ron was in college and was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, I thought that perhaps this whooping had warped him beyond repair.
My mother died before she got the chance to learn that her youngest child was simply organically and physiologically strange, through no fault of her own. I was glad to be off the hook. Twenty five years after the whooping, I even apologized to Ron about the whooping. I hoped he didn't even remember it, but he did. Decency prevents me from typing out what he said I ought to have done to me for putting him through that, but lets just say he did not graciously accept my apology the way I hoped he would.
( Little Girls Will Look You in The Eye and Lie )
