Three Things I Hated as a Child

I wanted a happy childhood, but my parents knew how to ruin it.
There were a few things with the power to put me in misery, and mom and dad knew how to keep them on the table. Everyday.

1.The worst of the worst – Naps
Mom was in charge with them. She was making me quit what I was doing and showing me to my bed.
“You are taking a nap.”
Pleading with her and trying to bribe her never helped.
I had to get in the bed, turn my face to the wall and sleep in the middle of the day. She would let me quiet down for a while and tiptoe back in the room to see if I was asleep. Never happen. My whole body was alerted when I would feel her bending over me to see if I was sleeping. The hard I was trying to keep my eyes close, the harder the tiny muscles of my eyes would tremble, giving me away.

2. The bad experiences every single day – Meals
My body constitution was fragile since I was born. In spite of being skin and bones I was full of energy and vitality. It was a mystery for people how I could be up and running for 14 hours a day on crumbles. I didn’t like most of my parents’ cooking. Soups, meat, milk, they were my enemies.I could live with one egg, french fries and chocolate every day of my life. My mom didn’t know what to do with me anymore to help me eat my food. All the sandwiches for school ended up in the trashcan.
“You will die from starvation one day,” she used to say.
I didn’t.

3.Monsters eating my freedom – Chores
By the time my parents would come home from work around 3PM, I had to make my bed, put my things away,do my homework and wash my feet on summertime.
With the exception of doing my homework, I.Hated.Doing.Everything.Else.
“Don’t touch my freedom! Let me do what I like!” These were my strong principles.
Anyway, I was so fast in getting everything done, that from 1PM to 2:45PM I could read one of my books, chat with my next-door friend, Irinutza, or make myself earrings from the colored wire my dad had in the shed.I was super fast in doing my homework, and most of the times my parents would find me at the table pretending to focus on my textbooks.

That was my childhood.
I know you feel sorry for me.

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