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    To go into detail about every year of my young life would take more bandwidth than exists currently so I'll just hit on some formative events to give you some idea of the how I had to grow up.
    First, I want to state that Fred and Loretta Whoozits were decent people. I was not their biological child but I was family. I got the same food, clothing, shelter, toys, etc that their own kids got. However, they made it plain that I was a burdon.  Whenever a financial crisis loomed, as it does from time to time in all families, they would glare at me and indicate that if they didn't have an extra child to support, their money problems would be solved. The fact that they went ahead and had two more kids after they got me didn't appear to be a factor.  They were warm, loving and demonstrative with the other kids, but not with me.  One of the incidents that stick out in my mind was when I was about 4 or 5. It was a bright sunny warm day. All of us kids were out playing in the yard. Mama (Loretta) was there too...she was sitting on a blanket with brother Bubba (Jethrene's father) who was an infant at the time. Everyone was running around playing and laughing and having a grand old time but for some reason I was standing off to the side, just watching. All the other kids would go running up to Mama, kiss her on the cheek and say, "I love you, Mama". Mama would laugh and kiss each one back. I thought this looked like great fun so I ran over, kissed Mama on the cheek and said "I love you, Mama" She grew angry, pushed be away and said "Shut up." She then picked up Bubba and the blanket and went back into the house while shooting me a withering look over her sholder that said "you spoil everything."  From that day forward, I knew my place in the scheme of things.Â
   My birthdays would have came and went without notice save for the fact that Crazy Sis's is just two days after mine.  I got gifts but grudgingly. I guess I knew something was hinky when the man I thought was my father kept asking me how old I was now.  Naturally, I had problems in school. I acted up quite a bit in a classic bid for attention, but all they cared about was that I was embarrassing them.  I started out as a chatty, outgoing child who soon became brooding and withdrawn. And what acccomplishments I did attain, they just dismissed it. The high school councelor once told them that I was college material and they told SHE was nuts and that they weren't wasting any further money on my education. If I wanted college, I'd have to get the money on my own. Which I did.  Â
    All the while, the woman whom everyone refered to as Aunt Theresa was a person sometimes discussed in the most negative respects (i.e. slut, tramp, drunk, loon) but never seen. I recall many a family reunions where some relative or other gazing at me and sadly shaking their head and saying "just like Theresa". At the time I did not get why they would compare me to the family disgrace but I was to find out.Â
  One day, when I was twelve, and I had done something wrong and was getting yelled at, Mama and Daddy out of anger finally sat me down and explained that they were not my parents but that Aunt Theresa, the family embarrasment, was my mother. That certainly explained a lot. Up to that time I'd just figured they didn't like me much and that this was somehow my fault.  Well, this threw me for a loop as you might imagine. I just went inward. I still functioned....I walked, talked, went to school, ate... but I avoided contact with others at my every chance.  I became combative, anti-social and began to swear like a long shoreman. I was a nastly little shit. I guess I was kinda feeling worthless. I would have been a lost cause altogether if not for Grandma Mona. She was the only one in the family who I felt really cared. She always kinda favored me over all her other grandchildren even though she tried to be subtle about it. My gandfather of course was a whole other ballgame. He hated my guts and made no bones about it. I was always torn when we went to visit because I wanted to see Grandma but then I would have to deal with him. I honestly don't remember my own grandfather ever calling me by my name. Oftimes he would ignore me, which was good, or he'd scowl and say to my parents, "I see ya brought the little bastard with ya."  I hope the little prick rots in hell.
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Meanwhile:
    In the City of the Angels, Nathaniel and his little family, lives the American dream. All is fine but there is a fly in this blissful ointment. Nathaniel's youngest son from his first marriage, Jake, has problems. They take him to the doctor and the diagnosis is sickle cell amemia, a blood disorder that is most times fatal. Jake lives with pain a good deal of the time but it doesn't effect his personality or his intellect. He was one of those people whom you knew would either grow up to be a criminal or grow up to be President of the United States.  Yeah, I know...some say that's about the same thing ..har har. He was special and often wise beyond his years. Nathaniel's second wife Valerie is a wonderful woman who excepts his children from the first marriage as her own and loves them dearly. She comforts Jake through his "crisises" and gives her all for him.  And when, eventually, she came to know me, she made me feel welcome and more like a human being than almost anyone ever had.
Next Episode:Â The Sperm Donor Is Revealed.
reguards
yer wanting a little cheese with that whine pal
bugg
