• Oops

    The Terrifying Tale of Toothems

    I’m likely eight at this point and I don’t recall ever receiving a doll for a present… ever! Maybe I did before I can remember, but I doubt it. So, Christmas comes around. Everyone’s so hyped getting ready for the fat man in the red suit to break into the house, through the chimney, if you can believe that! We even left food out to feed the B&E offender… Anyway, I digress. Christmas morning comes around and I pretty much knew what I held in my hands before opening it. It was large, rectangular and thin, you got it, a book. It was a nice book of fairy stories, but…

  • Oops

    Life and Death

    I was told that during my birth, I was breach and my father’s wife, and I, had died for a few moments. I used to wonder if it was a form of post natal depression that was the reason for my father’s wife’s dislike for me. I no-longer give her that out, because I know things she would think I couldn’t know, and have an entirely new understanding about her hatred towards me. Her actions, although damaging and devastating, I am now able to use in my memoir without naming, or shaming, because I only speak about the things, in detail, that happened to me, and she will always be…

  • Oops

    The Shower Incident

    Apparently I was a “bad” child, and was always told by my fathers wife, and her mother, that I was the black sheep of the family. It was even written in “the family” bible somewhere I think. They’d be flipping pages, muttering, smiling, groaning, you know there’s not much that can be said while your stuffing your face with scones, pastes, chocolate… and my siblings and I were busy being whipped into the “house cleaning business”, a business my fathers wife had not be trained for. Any way, I digress. So, I’m not five yet (I don’t think) and for some reason my fathers wife kept an unusually intense eye…