Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Kate took a second helping of my mom's potato salad tonight at dinner. Before she put the serving spoon back into the bowl, she licked it. Who taught that girl her manners? Her display of refinement commenced a conversation on things that grossed Bryan out. I must say that I really didn't want to have this discussion in front of my children. They did not need any new material or helpful hints on how to aggravate their siblings.
To my shame, I was the main thing that annoyed my brother. And my parents and my aunt told my kids all my tricks! As a girl, I had an entire arsenal of tactics meant to irritate and incense him. I was single-minded and ruthless. My mom used the word "mean". Just what this mother wants her impressionable children to discover about the lady who is always telling them to be kind and loving to each other.
Over dinner, my parents revealed that I used to lick the peanut butter knife and stick it back in the goober grape jar. I used to lick my spoon before helping myself to another spoonful of sugar on my wheaties. I used to slurp and suck and smack my lips until Bryan could contain his temper no more--his would release his frenzy and fury upon me just as my mom walked into the room. All perfectly timed on my part to incur the most wrath upon my brother. What a nice girl. And I am confounded by my children's antics sometimes?
I cringe to think what harvest this little "blast from the past" will reap in my life. I am almost afraid to hear them practicing the new material my family furnished for their attentive little ears tonight. I am truly remorseful for my despicable behavior. And so you can rest easy (and me too), I know I told my brother I was sorry for my childhood abuse. There is hope for Kate after all.
Posted by Reilly Fitzpatrick at 8:18 PM