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Peer-ent Pressure
For fifteen years, my mother’s form of parenting was to peer-ent. She was all about crossing inapprorpriate boundaries. So the fact that she was finally acting appropriate felt…suspicious. Something was definitely up.
It was ninety-five degrees in November. And there was a funk in the air. Maybe an earthquake was about to hit…
Unfortunately, it was another natural disaster. My mom’s BFF Ally. I would have preferred the earthquake. My suspicions were correct. My mom was buttering me up to cushion the blow. And man did Ally blow. Hard. She was the most immature thirty two year old in the world. Example: she made a bad suicide joke in my presence. Ally claimed she was the queen of treading lightly. This was coming from a woman who had simply referred to me as Lil’ Bitch since the day I was born.
Ally needed a serious reality check. But I knew she wouldn’t get it from my mom…. who indulged any and all of her crazy whims. And this time, that meant throwing me kegger. Apparently, Ally was being “generous” and “open.” The only thing open about Ally were her legs. And all I could do was pray she’d keep them closed at my party. God forbid, my mother’s bestie go down for pedophilia. Hmm…or was that a bad thing?
Pair-ent pression
Traduction à venir ! ;)
