Dungarees, Blood and Punishment

It was all my mother’s fault.

I was thirteen and really, really wanted them!

But she said, “NO, girls don’t wear dungaree’s,

it makes you look like a boy, or a tomboy, which is worse!”

.

Mom wasn’t going to stop me from going to the Mall with my friends,

I had been on the bus before without her.

So, off I went to buy a pair of Gloria Vanderbilt’s.

.

It was all my mother’s fault.

I was thirteen and really didn’t understand the retching pain I felt.

But she said, “I was just like you, doubled-over and wishing death,

I just never thought the cramps would come back every month.”

.

Mom wasn’t kidding, but she didn’t tell me that I’d bleed until I was white

and that the months turned into years,

or that the pains would grow worse

.

It was all my mother’s fault.

I was thirteen, and getting a dog was all I wanted.

Who knew that Spot would be such a disobedient dog.

She’d yell. “If I have to tell you one more time, dogs don’t eat at the dinner table!”

.

Mom had no tolerance and I suppose I don”t either, for I found, years later

that I said those same words to my bird, of all things,

and to the subsequent pets that I’ve had since.

.

Whether it was her obsessions with control over me,

or comiserating with my monthlies, or not…

the one thing that I know for sure… I got Mom’s genes!

.

I’ll take a pair of those groovy Vanderbilt’s over that!

Thanks Mom!

.

-dld November 2, 2010

for T10 – It was all my mother’s fault.

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2 responses to “Dungarees, Blood and Punishment

  1. Ha…I hate it when I hear my parents words coming out of my mouth…and when I pass a mirror and see memories of my mother’s face…I see I’ve got her genes…not much we can do about such things. 😉

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