I don't remember the first conversation I had with my sister wherein she told me that our parents weren't like other parents. By the time I was five or six, we would sit around after the bopsy twins had left for the night, run my mother's good name through a wringer, and howl with laughter. Of course it was six and twelve year old humor. But for those days we worked blue. It's hard to put a G rated spin on some guy nailing your mother while you dad's at work.
I have this flicker of her broaching the topic for the first time. Her sitting me down to make it known that our parents were not like other parents. I remember me giving her the four to five year old version of duh duh duh duh. Ya think? I had sleep overs at friend's. I knew something was not right.
My sister and I played board games all night long and we would talk about about our mother. I had not started school yet, so after summer vacation was over, I would fill her in on what all happened during the day. My sister taught me how to play chess. And monopoly. But no one taught me much else. Like how to tie my shoes. I still can't tie my shoes. Not like other people. I use a method that looks like Woody Allen strangling himself with a microphone cord. It's nothing like the way other people tie their shoes.
I have a lot of quirks like that. I am not impaired. I was just a little bit out of sync with the chronological development adhered to by other kids.
It was like living at the south pole and expecting today's issue of the wall street journal to show up on time.
The best thing about having an older sister is having the older sisters friends hanging out in the room next to me. They were compelling.
They "forced" me to hang with them and play barbie dolls or else receive a "beating".
One day my sisters friend Patricia called me into the room. She sat me down close to her.
Doug she says, I called you in here for a reason.
I was eager to please.
Doug she says, see this lamp in my hand? The light bulb has been removed.
I need to know if when it was taken out, was the switch on or off?
Her asking me to come into my sisters room was a red flag. Nothing good was coming of this.
Doug she says.
I am going to plug this lamp in.
I want you to stick your finger in the socket and tell me if it is on or off.
How will I know?
Oh you'll know.
I stuck my finger in there and lit up.
I went back to my room.
I think she set me up to do something stupid.
I also think it's hilarious. That this chick would go to such a length to mess with me, and that I would actually fall for it.
I told that story to my mother shortly before I went no contact and I thought she would bust a spring.
She told me that I dreamed it all up.
She is told me I am permanently impaired.
If anyone knows anything about being impaired it would be her.
I think she thinks one story will tarnish her image as a perfect mother. Like someone will hear it and after decades of bulldozing her kids under, someone will suddenly say hey! I am not so sure you aren't a lousy mother.
I don't know where she was when they were testing my conductivity, but I can guess.
I bet a gust of wind blew her skirt up over her head and she tripped and fell on some guys penis.
But I could be wrong.