(July 22, 2016 at 11:39 pm)Bob Kelso Wrote: I think the only time I ever felt unloved or like trash was once when my parents pretended they couldn't hear me when I was asking to come out of my room after I had done something I shouldn't have. I went ballistic, and I suppose they realized that wasn't a good way to discipline since they never did it again.
Slightly off topic, when I was 5ish my mother sent me to my room under the terms that I could come out if and only if I would eat my coleslaw.
I had a really old space heater in my room which caught fire and subsequently caught the wall on fire. I screamed for help from my doorway for several minutes before my dad came (shouting up that he was bringing his belt to teach me how he felt about shouting for no reason).
When he saw the fire (which taken up the wall by now) he shouted for my mom to get everyone out and call 911.
Then he had to drag me kicking and screaming from my burning room "nooooo I don't want to eat my coleslaw just get a water hose nooooo!"
I had a few minor burns but mostly I just got really sick from breathing in so much smoke. I was never made to eat coleslaw again.
My mother found it really amusing that I would rather die than eat coleslaw. I really do hate that stuff. It's gross.
