Mother-Hoodlum

I am perhaps not best suited to this challenge, simply as my relationship with my mother was not as loving as it should have been, I'll give it a go.

It has been a long time since I last set eyes on my Mother, and though most folks will find this hard to take in, I'm rather glad of it.

If you think me unkind then hear my story which I'll briefly touch on here.

I was born to mismatched parents in 1952, in deepest, darkest Liverpool, England. My earliest memory of my Mother was of her beating me when I was about two years old. She was feeding me this awful processed cheese and I couldn't handle the consistency of it and pooped my pants so I took a hammering for that.

It is difficult to remember a time when she wasn't violent and enraged. Whether it was circumstances or just me I could never figure it out, so I just grew up being terrified of her.

I used to have frequent nightmares about her when I was younger.

When I finally grew too big for her to punch me I joined the military and said goodbye, and that's basically it.

Further references to my Mother can be found in my backlog of posts for anyone seeking to know more.

I never hated her, but it was close.