Theexoticmom’s Blog

more . . .

So, after running away, I decided not to do that anymore (for a few years anyway.)  Though there were more hugs involved from then on and I don’t really remember having to nap after that day!

I remember a few random things happening.  Like being scared of anyone with a beard because my dad’s friend scared the s**t out of me at an early age playing Santa Claus one year.  I had that fear til I was about 7.  Some men just suck.

Then, the trailer next door burned down.  I mean burned down and melted part of our trailer.  We were not long for the trailer park after that.  I kinda felt like the Jefferson’s when we moved into our new house.  I mean WOW a real live house with a yard and no sheep in the wooded area (we didn’t even have a wooded area anymore, imagine)!  There was a real street and it wasn’t dirt.  We had SIDEWALKS!!! Yea:) We were movin’ on up!

I got my own room.  I didn’t have to share with my stinky brother anymore.  Of course, back then there was nothing wrong with that either.  Now, DCF gets called.  Go figure.

I do distinctly remember that I wished for a bike and got one.  My brother got one, too.  The thing was, my mom said we could only go between the two telephone poles on our street.  She was afraid of kidnappers who would take us and slash us up into little pieces and not think twice.  Of course, when you’re a kid, that just sucks when you have to stay between two telephone poles.  (As a mom now-I’m the same way.  Who says you don’t grow up to be your mother or say what she used to say to you?)  I think I was 12 before I could go past them and go up and down the sidewalk from one end of the street to the other.  Come on, what?  With all the nosy people on the block, did she really think someone was going to take ME?  I guess so, because no matter how hard I begged, it was always, “Michele Lee, if you go past those poles, so help me. . .”  I could fill in the rest because she could really put the fear of God into you.  Mom’s are sooooo good at that! She still scares me.  We still actually duck when she raises her hands!  heehee.

Which reminds me of the time my brother and she were upstairs in our house.  When my brother was younger, he was prone to nosebleeds.  I don’t know if he was getting into trouble or what, but she raised her hand (not to hit him mind you) and he ducked, but she still caught him somehow.  She barely touched him, but, his nose burst forth a dam of blood.  My mom was horrified.  My brother thought it was funny.  And he stopped getting into trouble.  That time.

Speaking of trouble.  We were always told not to run in the house.  Yeah, don’t front, you were told the same thing, too.  Wasn’t just my mom.  Anyway, my brother was about 8 and I was about 10.  We were running around (yes, I KNOW my mom said not to run in the house) and we were chasing each other.  Well, we were also slamming doors.  Our bathroom had a nice beveled, frosted glass window in the top half of the door.  (It was a pretty old house when we moved in.)  So, I chased my brother into the bathroom and he was slamming from the inside and I was slamming from the outside.  Yeah, you can guess what happened next.  We broke the glass in the door.  Well, we were scared and didn’t say a word.  You know how the NOT ME ghost travels to certain houses, well, that day he was in mine.  Convinced that we were going to die a slow, painful, but well-deserved death, we wrote a note to the effect that we were running away from home.  We were going to get jobs, hock my brother’s saxophone (that wasn’t quite paid for yet), and pay them back.  Then and only then, would we consider showing our faces in our town again.  A little dramatic, right?  Well, we left the note and packed our bags.  My mom and dad found the note and we were off the hook for that time.  Years later, my mom would say how they laughed at the note and thought it was too cute.  It wasn’t cute to us, though.  We were so worried we would not live to see another birthday.  Obviously, we did not have to run away or lose our lives to the wrath of my mom.

She was not a mean mom.  She was the best mom anyone could ask for.  But, moms always know how to scare the living bejesus out of you with just a look.  Those of you reading this have gotten that look, too!  You know what I mean.

Will update more when I can.

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