In response to my reminiscences about childhood hair, Kat posts a little backstory as to why she got to keep her hair long and I had to get it cut. I’d forgotten about the pierced-ear bribe. All I knew was, at the end of the day, I’d gotten suckered into cutting off my hair to get my ears pierced, and she got to keep her hair long and still get her ears pierced. I never knew the role my father played in that.
My relationship — well, both our relationships — with Mom were complicated. Not a day went by that she didn’t let us know how much we disappointed her, but of course we each disappointed her in our own way. And eventually, we were set against each other. She was the pretty one. I was the fat one, who at least was smart. She’d have a man; I’d have a job. And neither of us were one of her Golden Boys.
Of course, these roles were limiting, and we rebelled against them, which meant that neither of us are very good at either relationships or being long-term employees.
But, like Kat says, I loved her and not a day goes by when I don’t miss her.