To the mother of my 19 year old godson:
Every time I see that you’ve posted one of these *“God has given me the greatest gift of all, my wonderful children. I love them more than life itself. I would walk through fire for them. There is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for my darling children. They are my world. Click “like” if you feel the same way about your children” *on Facebook I want to jump on the next plane to Florida just so I can punch you in your fat smug Jesus Freak face.
You beat the crap out of you son when he was young because you needed an outlet for your frustrations. Then you abandoned him and his brother and ran away with a crackhead, leaving your kids sad, scared and confused. While your boys were growing up you cared about nothing but drugs and lesbian jail sex and left them to the mercies of an uncaring father who didn’t believe the boys were his and later, when the father decided to return to his country of origin to enter into an arranged marriage, a foster care/group home system.
Now you claim to be clean and “getting your life together”. You run your big fat God loving mouth constantly about how you want to make things right with your children.
Last year, when your son ended up homeless and really needed you, you had your chance. When I put him on plane to spend some time with you, all you could do was bitch about how he disrespected you and dropped granola bar wrappers on the floor ( he’s a freaking teenager, sometimes you have to deal with these things ). I’ve had it with your complaints about how he won’t forgive and forget the past – I know he’s working on it but the scars are deep. He feels that you “broke” him then threw him away because he was broken. The fact that you wouldn’t let him continue to live with you because you don’t like his attitude did nothing towards making this better.
So, for the past year your son has been living with me in my one bedroom apartment, sleeping on a daybed I bought for him, with bedding I purchased. I buy his food and keep him in shampoo and toothpaste and MetroCards and laundry soap.
When he has a bad day at work and his confidence is shot, I’m the one he talks to. I’m the one that lectures him about safe sex, the perils of teenaged parenthood, and personal responsibility. When he has girl troubles and needs to talk, he knocks on my door and sits on my bed. He’s a smart sensitive kid with a lot of problems and a lot of promise at a critical juncture of his life. He got his GED while living with me and is starting community college in the fall.
Not only have you never thanked me for stepping up to the plate and doing your job, you seem to feel affronted by the very fact that he’s doing well. During our infrequent and short conversations you always start by immediately reiterating some story about the time he didn’t put his used soda cup in the trash he is and telling me what a horrible child he is, then you have the nerve to get nasty when I disagree.
This isn’t about you, you self-centered cunt. I’ve turned my life upside down for your son because I genuinely care for him and want him to be successful and happy. My motive is not to show you up and expose you as a bad parent. Get over yourself, bitch.
And stop posting that sanctimonious crap on Facebook. Be honest and post:
“God has given me the greatest gift of all and boy howdy, did I abuse the hell out of it. I love my children but only in the absolutely most abstract sense and only when they are 1000 miles away, I find the reality of them an incredible inconvenience. I know I damaged them terribly but that’s Ok as long as I don’t have to see the scars I inflicted. Click LIKE if you suck as a mother”
RANT OVER, I had to get that out of my system.
