The Quintessential Parent Trap

I created you the angelic, and the impish with my proud and selfless love for you. I enthusiastically ate for two the sweet, the sour, the salty, ravenous cravings. I carried you inside me, everywhere; goodbye figure and posture hello nausea and inexplicable dreams. Laboring for hours endless pain, draining my energy to bring forth you into this unforgiving yet inhabitable world. You had the audacity with your very first breath to make demands, your wails echoing to clothe, to nourish, soothe and diaper. Ensuing endless days of changings, lingering guests, photo ops, engorged breasts; exhausting nights with the sleep-deprived DNA benefactor who cannot truly believe he has the privilege to growl about any misery he encounters. He is able, when he awakes to go about his day without having to consider anyone’s urgencies but his own. “But I bring home the bacon” he assuages.…blah blah blah. Your physical abilities I guided, while offering spiritual awareness, lavishing you with gifts; all your needs addressed. Later you believed you were granted the right to walk away from me at any given time, while enouncing the notion that I did not “know” anything! I gave, gave, and gave some more enabling you to take, take, and take it all disabling me of my parental right to unconditionally love you; my most ungrateful successor to the throne of unconventional parenting. Despite the rebel proclivity, you ultimately discerned my essential longing for your reverence and long awaited mature interpretation of my maternal matrix of noble nurturing. If I may be so brash to foretell of your own inevitable parental destiny, may your own proverbial crimson piece of produce similarly hit-the-dirt in close proximity to your woodsy perennial.