Many, many years ago , my brother and I became friends with two boys, Matthew and Mark*, whose father was the kind of dad I always wanted mine to be. My father was in the military, as was their father, but mine traveled quite a bit and the time that he spent away on Temporary Duty (TDY) made my home life just a little bit sweeter. On the other hand, M&M's dad was the kind of dad who made pancakes for them for dinner, took 'em to Burger King, to softball games for his squadron and he'd take them camping. (As an aside, my father beat the ever loving shit out of me whenever he could and called me "Crisco" because I was "fat in the can." Good times.)
Since my "father" was quite the "playah", he and my mom eventually parted ways and, (you've already read ahead, haven't you, Gentle Reader?) Matthew and Mark's dad and my mom got married. Bliss was this close to being had by one and all in our glorious land....except, my mom gave custody of my younger brother and me to my sadistic, ill tempered father because "your brother needed his father and I didn't want to split up you kids." Good Move, Mom! Two Thumbs UP!
My brother and I spent summers and Christmas Breaks with my mom and our SD (StepDad) and, it should be noted, right around the last day of the visit, my anxiety levels increased and I started wailing about how "this is the last time...we'll do this or that" and there was quite the melodrama. It has to be said: I did not want to go back and reside with the sperm donor but, I had no choice.
Fast forward a year or five. My father remarried . They spawned a child a year or so later. Then, the Evil Father got orders to move overseas..........I wept. I was 16, I was this close to my letter jacket for being a Band Queer and we were moving away. To Germany.
As telephone conversations went back and forth between both sets of parents, regarding the impending move to Europe, I was beyond wearied of living with my Evil Father so I asked for the opportunity to live with my mother and SD in a forlorn Southern State. My wish was granted. I was to be reunited with friends from 4th through 6th grade and life would be good again! Except??? The SD got orders for Germany, as well. I decided to move with them instead and my "father" took that hard. Apparently, I was supposed to be his beating beeyotch 4-ever.
Now, to backtrack, at some point along the way, whilst I lived in a different state with my mutha fucking father, prior to my moving in with my mother and the SD, both stepbrothers started turning into rabid Southern Baptists. This was .....disheartening, at best, since each of the boys had showed me their naughty bits and had no "come to Jesus" moments when we were alone.
Anyway, so, we moved to Germany, we lived as a family, we loved as only a dysfunctional family can. I drank a lot of mutha fucking beer, my dad got "The Cancer", he had another kid, he threw me some melodrama and I finally graduated from high school and got the hell out of Dodge.
In a desperate need to be at one with American McDonald's fries, I moved back to the States, leaving the SBs and the parents and the MF father and his family behind, and embarked on my College Journey in San Marcos, Texas.
I joined my mother and SD at Christmas the first year they returned to The States and was stunned to find that my younger SB was doing things like BURNING HIS ROCK ALBUMS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Literally. Burning.Albums.For.Jesus. (That didn't stop him from telling me all about screwing his girlfriend in our parent's bed (EWWWW) JESUS ROCKS THE HOUSE!
Fast forward 30+ years. My mom and SD? *They* are my PARENTS. They went from Military Loving Closed Minded Republicans to Liberal Open Independents. I love you guys....
Fo' Real, yo.
* The Names Have Been Changed to Protect Myself from being Sued by Morons.
