Bedtime Stories

Like they say in the movies (and in Despicable me it’s my favorite :  Any relation to persons living or dead is completely coincidental…

For me, growing up in a single parent home was the norm.  

Now when I say single parent I actually mean my nanny Willemien. She was our (me and my brother’s) live in maid.  She was a wonderfully warm, chubby, loving and giving soul, who grew “maroggo” in the back garden, and cooked it like spinach and gave it to us with pap.  She made “Cool Aid” icicles with the ice cube tray and stuck toothpicks in them to give to us on hot summer afternoons.

My mother was at work.  Always.  And when she was not working, she was out with her male friends, or at a work party.  Close to the last time I spoke to her when I cooked a Sunday lunch, and they arrived 3 hours late, she told me

The one thing I truly regret from you and your brother was young, was that I was a telephone mom.  I used to call home and ask if the kids had been fed, did they take a bath, are they in bed, did they do their homework etc.

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