Complaints and head-worms … general bitching that has to go somewhere, but isn’t that interesting.
When I had my first kid, my adoptive mother said two things that still irritate me.
“How could you give it away?” and “I’m glad I never had to go through that!”
Yeah, he’s 18 in September. I never claimed to be mature.
When they were looking at adopting, my adoptive father was completely against adopting a boy. Not because he wanted a girl, but because he didn’t want his name passed on to a boy who wasn’t related to him.
During our final bust-up, she said “You’re an embarrassment, and belong in Port Noarlunga South”.
Port Noarlunga South is a somewhat lower-socio-economic area, and where my birth family lived when I first met them.
Whenever I was doing something “not quite acceptable” to the family, such as listening to loud music, wearing a lot of black, or generally being a bit of a bogan, “that might be acceptable to that lot in Port Noarlunga South, but we don’t do that kind of thing” was thrown around a lot.
“Any slapper can give birth, but it takes a real woman to be a mother!”