Don’t forget the kids, it’s more than a roof over your head and food on the table

This is the first in a series of the importance of good parenting, and how everything starts at the home. Something we seem to have forgotton today. Instead we prefer to blame others, namely teachers

Do you have a best friend? Where you did everything together, knew everything about them and stayed up to five in the morning talking about your darkest secrets. Then you moved away and your esteemed mother would not let you attend his biggest moment of his early life to date, his Bar Mitzvah, cause she didn’t want to inconvenience herself to drive 30 miles. Your 13, you guys have done everything together, your as close to brothers without actually being brothers. Your pissed off, your hurt, your now embarrassed to face your best friend and try to explain your absence but you can’t.

So around that time, your brother about eight years younger, whose overtly introverted, and suffering from mental health issues is urged by this same person to get off his ass and get out of bed and be like his brother, whose extroverted and outgoing and go outside and make some friends, god dammit. Damn, that must have hurt that little guy. Some years later that little boy attempted suicide. I wonder why!

Back to your best friend, his parents of very modest means, the Dad a hard worker, but of limited income power and a Mom of chronic health issues, unable to work anymore. Your best friends parents get wind there will be an apartment coming open in a much better area, a much bigger apartment, for a lower rent. They after months of pursuing through the proper channels to secure this apartment, as after all they will never own a house, it’s out of there means, this is the best to expect they will ever do. After all there spaghetti and meat sauce dinners, consisted of spaghetti and ketchup.

It appears they were blocked from getting the apartment, as the mother of the apartment to come open decided she wanted someone else to live there. So they missed out. (Of your apartment) Moreover the people the mother held the apartment for didn’t want it after all and again another embarrassing moment for the bests friends. “My parents are pissed at your Mom, she prevented us from moving to an apartment” we really wanted and “why couldn’t you say something your suppose to be my best friend. My parents treat you like a son”!! I start crying, I say I am so sorry, my mother’s an asshole. They say in not so many words, WE KNOW!

Hey people are people, parents are people they make mistakes, just like when your eight years old growing up in the inner city, of the biggest city in America and you tell you Mom, Billy wants to beat me up, he says he’s gonna kill me! She says what do you want me to do. YOUR BIG beat him up. REALLY!!! And where’s the Father, he’s got his head buried up his ass so far, he’s got no idea what goes on at home and even if he did, would shrug it off because the only thing he cares about is his career. NICE!

In fact you never see the man, he’s up and before you wake and home after you’re in bed for the night. I appreciate you work so hard and put food on the table, but there’s a little thing called love your messin up, which is priceless. So, now your 10, don’t work yet, to young, so if you need money for candy or chocolate milk or whatever you go to Mom. Time and time again, to the point it’s ingrained in your soul what you will have to go through to get this precious quarter. The inquisition,

“What do you need it for, I just gave you a…,,But please, I’ll never ask you again” What another quarter, what do you spend it on? REALLY! And then she finally gives it to you. At this point your so drained from the exercise you don’t even want it anymore. But, you take it. Your 10. Your can’t reconcile why it takes this much mental gymnastics to get a damn quarter. You feel smaller than you already are. You begin, to think your not worth it. There must be something wrong with me. There’s not but you don’t know it. If possible it’s time to make an appointment for eight years in the future for a psychiatrist. Cause your gonna need one. Ain’t that a bitch…

Its not child abuse or anything but there is sure something amiss.


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