permanent damage

I hope to find the same joy in scarring my child emotionally for life as my parents found in doing it to me.

I will point out a few moments that are still vivid in my memory.

I was playing softball (“playing” is really pushing it). Let me re-word, I was on the softball team. My dad was ever faithful and came to all my games. However, there is a caveat. He would arrive with a skip in his step and wearing very gaudy green and read plaid pants with Gold piping going through them. My faithful few, as horrid as you imagine them to be, you must magnify the image tenfold. As if this was not enough to damage his lovely little girl - donned on his face were black plastic glasses with a large rubber pig nose attached (he found these at a joke shop and could not resist wearing them at every appropriate moment). I would want to die when I saw him coming. At least he showed up, on more than one occasion, he was the only parent cheering on a child. (Cheering? More like embarrassing the ever living hell out of me!) What happened to these very fashion forward pants you ask – in a very fortunate twist of fate, my cat Tessie birthed her kittens on these very pants – there is a god!!!

On occasion my mom happened by the school and would kindly give some of my friends a lift home. My mom who sings like a bird (being attached by a ruthless cat) had the car radio blaring and was belting out some vintage Janis Joplin. What goes hand in hand with a Joplin ditty, the head bob, of course! During her Joplin induced epileptic fit my mom stopped the car, naturally I though it was time to let my friend out. I opened the car door and hopped out. I did not know my mom was not done driving the vehicle, she was unable to hear the door open while her brains were being jolted about in her skull with the head bopping. Well, to make a long story short, she ran over my foot. My friends are extremely lucky it was not one of them who exited the vehicle first! I was so upset, there were tire tracks on my brand new light blue converse all star high tops. Without further incident, we got my friends safely to their front doors. My mom was going on about how many bones are in a foot and off to the ER we went. It is amazing how much weight a foot can actually support. Nothing was broken, sprained or even bruised. Yet another miracle!

When my parents were not embarrassing me they would be down right cruel. Sinister, the epitome of pure evil. If I did not heed my mothers second call to “rise and shine” these demon parents would begin to blare the Ramones, their song of choice “it’s not my place in the 9-5 world”. Awaking to the screeching sounds of Joey Ramone will make someone instantly angry, if not insane. Who does this to their child, and more importantly WHY???

Dating was the worst! All dates (Yes I had hundreds!!, ok maybe, 3) had to go to the door, the honking of a horn was strictly forbidden. My parents would easily chit chat with my date while he stared dumfounded, my date had same look a squirrel has prior to the impact of a tire. Eventually we would be on our way. Inevitably we had to return to my driveway. And what was in my driveway, a huge halogen spotlight. If (god forbid!!) we were to linger in the driveway for more than two minutes, my mother would begin flashing that light incessantly. Our entire driveway would look like a 70’s disco floor. Not to mention it makes it very difficult to find your dates lips when your eyes are unable to focus due to the orbs floating in them.

Somehow I managed to survive these less than pleasant occasions, and I am sure my son will thrive as well!