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The Towel
A Harm County Custody Battle

My mother only married my father so she wouldn’t have to testify against him on a drug charge. They used to call her Blackeye Susan back in the day, because she punched so many people, women and men. She beats her boyfriend, Mic, with a regularity that’s savage.

There were three of us, my brother 8 years older, me and my sister, two years younger than me. The house we lived in in the city was weirdly designed. One of the three bedrooms was a walk-through, so my sister and I shared a bedroom. My mother would let us have sleep-overs and I’d have four bitches rolled up in my bed like burritos. If I was a guy I would have been in heaven.

We were using my father’s address in the county to go to school—‘cause no way was our parents letting us go to Patterson High!

Now my mom paid child support, if you can believe that. My father Knocked up the bitch who eventually became my step mother! So my mom walked out.

So, my father is kicking out for school clothes and such so he takes her to court for custody and child support. The judge asks my mom, “When you packed your bags and left, did you pack your children’s bags too?”

She answered, “No,” and the gavel came down, boom—dad gets custody.

The arrangement was such bullshit, like the government people want to put the kids through the most possible stress. There are all these stipulations for rotating visits and what time you have to be where—a scheduled, fucked up family rotation.

Mind you, if my mom didn’t have us back at my dad’s by 8 o’clock on Sunday night, she could be arrested. And he would always be out there on the stairs waiting at eight and did call the cops once.

One time—this was down at Key Landing in Dundalk, right on the water—my dad was in the shower when my mom showed up—she still had the key! She is getting Sharon and me dressed and getting our book bags packed, but its not her scheduled time. My dad hears this shit going on out in the apartment and he comes out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. I took after mom, a big girl, nobody was slinging me over their shoulder. So dad told me to go back into my room and I went, but only stayed there until the show got really good, then I was peeking out the window. My mom has got Sharon up in her arm and is walking outside and my dad follows with a towel wrapped around his waist!

Before you knew it they were down on the sidewalk between the apartment buildings and dad grabs Sharon out of my mom’s arms and she’s ready to fight, but can’t punch my dad without endangering Sharon, so she rips the towel off of his waist and pitches it out into the grass and my dad just walks back inside nude, carrying Sharon like a baby.

The funny thing was, this drunk bitch that lived I the opposite building was at her window and saw this—and well, I guess she was impressed, because she was knocking on my dad’s door wanting date, bringing over food, before we were even in bed! My dad was always a magnet for crazy bitches. You two should, like, start an escort business in cooperation with a psychiatric hospital called, We Sooth Insane Women!

He dated that crazy bitch for like two years. The worst part was, was she couldn’t cook worth a fuck. Her food was terrible. Fortunately, when she got a house, she moved in next door to my grandmother—who could cook! So, when she wasn’t looking at dinner, we’d scoop the food on our plates into the trash and then climb the fence to grandma’s house and get our eat on.

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