I know I have reached that golden old age (noneyobizniz) when dementia slowly slides into one’s memories rendering them misty with golden overtones and that sweet nostalgia that blacks out the ugly and allows one to see things with that Vaseline blur (I call it perspective, but what do I know) that glosses over not so pleasant events.
I have learned now, however that I am wrong, wrong, wrong. The way I recall things is a made-up, cleaned for prime time version of actual events that can only be retold in a triple X, quadruple R rated, made-for-the-courtroom movie.
You’d never know it by looking at me, but I make Goebbels look like he wore a dress and baked cookies as a hobby. I have single-handedly ruined more lives than any individual should be responsible for.
I visited punishments upon one of my children that were something straight out of a handbook on how to mentally ruin any human being in less than five years and the lasting effects have caused such havoc and instability in this one’s life as to render it a complete failure with no hope in sight.
Yet another one was made so inhumanely miserable that it was only a feat of superhuman strength that allowed them to make it until they were 21 to up and leave the house in order to finally find happiness; Which, from the way things turned out I assumed meant able to mooch enough pizza, beer, and pot off of friends to be satisfied until the lottery money turned up.
By the time I got around to even paying any attention at all to a third one I guess I was too tired to come up with appropriate tortures so I just flung that one into a closet at around age 10 until it had grown large and smart enough to work a doorknob in the dark – again around age 20/21.
The last one, of course I apparently spoiled rotten, absolutely ruining any chance for it to develop a decent relationship with its siblings or father and rendering it so completely obnoxious as to deserve being roundly snubbed by any and all who came upon them.
Now I don't want to brag or anything - but I managed all of this while not even trying. Actually I tried very hard to create the exact opposite outcome. I loved my children unconditionally, Was always there for them. I hugged them often, showed interest in everything they did and even made sure I tucked them into bed every night with a bedtime story or a listening ear. I gave them the toys and clothes they craved the most and opened my house to their friends - day and night. Heck, I even learned how to become invisible when required. Who knew all of this would actually put me in the running for such a prestigious award?
All I can say is, I am on a roll - maybe if I can keep it up I will get fired from work, have my car repossessed and have my mortgage foreclosed upon. Keep your fingers crossed. I can only hope.
(please note this is all tongue in cheek - an essay written on a very bad day. My children are a monument to my ability to NOT screw them up. They are any mother's dream.)