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The Meanest Mother in
the World
I had the meanest mother in the
world. While other kids ate candy for breakfast, I had to have cereal,
eggs and toast. When others had cokes and candy for lunch, I had to eat
a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the other
kids also. But at least I was not alone in my suffering. My sister and
two brothers had the same mean mother I did.
My mother insisted upon knowing where we were all the time. You'd
think we were on a chain gang. She had to know who our friends were and
what we were doing. She insisted, if we said we'd be gone an hour, that
we be gone an hour or less, not one hour and one minute. I am almost
ashamed to admit it, but she actually struck us. Not once, but each time
we did as we pleased. Can you imagine someone actually hitting a child
just because he disobeyed? Now you can begin to see how mean she really
was.
The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night
and up early the next morning. We could not sleep until noon like our
friends. So while they slept my mother actually had the nerve to break
the child labor law. She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make the
beds, and learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she
laid awake nights thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon our telling the whole truth and nothing
but the truth even if it nearly killed us -- and it nearly did. By the
time we were teenagers, she was much worse and wiser and our lives
became even more unbearable. None of this tooting the horn of a car for
us to come running. She embarrassed us to no end by making our dates and
friends come to the door and get us. I forgot to mention: while my
friends were dating at the mature age of 12 or 13, my old fashioned
mother refused to let me date until the age of 15 and 16. Fifteen, that
is, if you date only to go to a school function and that was maybe twice
a year.
My mother was a complete failure as a mother. None of us have ever
been arrested or beaten his mate. Each of my brothers served his time in
the service of this country. And whom do we have to blame for the
terrible way we turned out? You are right, our mean mother.
Look at all the things we missed. We never go to march in a protest
parade, or to take part in a riot, burn our draft card and a million and
one things that our friends did. She forced us to grow us into
God-fearing, educated, honest adults.
Using this as a background I am trying to raise my three children.
I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call
me mean. Because you see, I thank God he gave me the MEANEST MOTHER IN
THE WORLD.
--by Erma Bombeck
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