"Where does discipline end? Where does cruelty begin? Somewhere between these, thousands of children inhabit a voiceless hell." ~ Francois Mauriac
My mom and I were watching a Thanksgiving-themed program on the Food Channel this weekend. She reminded me that my dad wouldn't allow her to have a potato masher. When we had mashed potatoes, she had to do it with a fork.
It's a small, mean thing to make one's work harder than it has to be. It was just another way my father enjoyed making her life miserable. I have to remind myself periodically: My father thought it was fun to watch other people suffer. The more suffering, the better.
Remembering that fact always makes me feel like someone has stabbed me in the heart.