Dear Mom, Thanks For Not Liking Me

Most people want their mom to like them; I don’t care.

Photo by Miguel Bruna on Unsplash

My youth consisted of many moments nestled in the back between the pillowy velvet seats of my mom’s Chrysler Fifth Avenue; the invisible observer intently listening to the verbal soap opera in the front. Knowing if I was unnoticed, I would not be a source of complaint or ridicule. Not being mentioned was a blessing as it meant the poisoned darts…