TO: To: you are not doing anything wrong From: the op
Me: Read my comment about “cloth ears”, I also practiced passive resistance (although there was not a name for it back then) and it drove my parents into fits of rage and spankings, but I was a tough little kid and I knew one day, I would be able to repay them in kind and payback is a b**** and I sure did – no regrets there at all.
I guess my parents expected me to be a “Trophy Child” except I refused to be one, because if they could not give me love, in everything they did with me, then I sure as Hell, was never going to be anybody’s Trophy Kid.
Let me put that another way. My parents were always stingy and mean with me, but this time, my father took me to a hobby shop with all sorts of magnificent toys in the window and where other parents were buying their kids splendid toys for Christmas and may father left me outside the shop, with instructions not to peek, while he went in to buy my present, for me.
He came out with it, in a “big carrier bag” which he put in the trunk of our car and we drove home, me all excited and then he waited until I was not around before he took my present into his house.
Come Christmas, I joined my parents in their bed, as we always did, for special occasions and my father handed me a long heavy box wrapped in Christmas paper, with my name on it..
I unwrapped the box and opened it and inside was a big, rubber encased torch, which my father reached over and took out, saying “Oh a big rubber torch, just what I wanted, as it is no use to you, Richard” and that was the last Christmas present they ever gave me, shortly afterwards taking away all of my other toys, because I would not perform as they expected me to – I was about 9 or 10 then.
When I “left” home, to live and work in London, miles away, my father said I owed them thousands of Pounds and I asked “what for” and he said I had to repay them for all of the food, accommodation, clothing and everything else, they had paid out in my upbringing, like I was responsible for the condom breaking, which I mentioned earlier, in my previous post, or the s** they enjoyed, which created me.
They stole that money from me, in later life (but that is another story), but my mother repaid it to me “as my inheritance” pretty much to the nearest UK Pound, at compound interest for all of the years they enjoyed it – however I did not get the whole estate, that went to hangers on and other places, about which I know nothing.
Sufficient for me to live the life I enjoy now, without ever needing to worry about money, ever again.
Richard or R