Milk In The Face

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Moody

Yes of course I was, my dear mother made it quite clear I was the most difficult child of the five she brought into this world.

I suspect I was strong-willed right from the start, ready to run, ready to say no, all of which is ‘normal” I think.

When I was about two years old I chose to have it out with my mother and challenge her, big mistake. She always kept her word, knowing this at the time would have saved me some grief, and tears.

I grew up on a farm and loved playing outside, I suspect the “incident” had something to do with her wanting me to come inside the house…and me putting my foot down and giving her a very loud, “NO”.

As a kid in the 60’s everyone drank cow’s milk, I loved it, it was my life blood, nothing kept me from it, until the fateful day of the “Great Challenge”.

Standing in the doorway, a small truck in my hand; my mother opposite me, glass of milk in her hand.

As I raised the toy above my head she said, “If you throw that, I will throw the milk in your face”

I threw the truck.

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swift justice

 

 

 

 

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