”Morgan was in the living room talking with her son John, who was crying, when Abby came downstairs yelling. Morgan watched in horror at what unfold...d.“Vince, what the fuck did you do?”“Abby, let me explain.”“Did you spank my kids?”“Yes, I did but please let me explain.”“You don’t discipline my kids. You think because we had something you can do that! You’re not their father. You aren’t half the man Ted was. You think because I let you fuck me, you’re entitled! How dare you hit my or Morgan’s. I would once again have to move like her, dress like her, make my hair like her, fuck like her, and eat like her. Primarily, this ritual reminded me that no matter how many things I did that were unlike my mother; the charities I took on, the children I read to, the aggressive sexual posture with Patricia; or how much surgery I had to look different than her. I was in fact just an advanced version of her shell. Because, as much as I didn't accept it, I made myself try to forget it. Every single. More

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