interesting thing about moms

i just had a really cool conversation with my mom. really cool.

sometimes . . . well, no, a lot of times . . . a lot of times, i don't give my mom the cred she deserves. i don't give my mom her props.

we were talkin about my education and i realized how way much more choice she's given me than how much she got. she's got this . . . way of finding a way to make peace with everything. i've got this one brother, y'know . . . if anybody deserves to be a problem child now, it's him. he never pulled any of the shit we did. mother's oldest son, a molester and a thief, can't wait til he's suckin dirt. next, the second of my mother and father's together, . . . not sure yet, but definitely a pain in the ass early on. then there's me. no outside trouble, but boy did the shit git sturred when i got pissed. i didn't do little shit. i didn't wanna land in jail or juvie like my idiot older brother. i also didn't wanna wind up with a sore ass for the trouble of having a hard head, like the one who came after me. no, i did big shit: shit big enough to get what i wanted but not too big for sympathetics and guilt-riders. i initiated custody battles, isolated myself from each of them whenever i felt like it, cut school two out of my three years in high school, two to five days a week . . . i did whatever i damned well pleased.

i deserved to. and i did it with relish. all accidentally, of course. i don't think i could've planned that much trouble if i'd wanted to.

i was spoiled, to be sure. only daughter of the only son of my grandmother was a really nice place to be in on my dad's side of the family. only saw my mom's side once that i remember, until after the divorce. still don't know'm, but if what my mom says is true--and i don't see why it wouldn't be because she doesn't lie--then it's probably a good thing i don't. i'd prolly do some cussin and i'd rather not do that til it wouldn't embarass her so. i am my family's redhead. that's fun, too.

hunger beckons.