Daddy's Favorite

Ann’s history : My father was a well-respected lawyer in our town and the discipline in our household was very strict.  We children were always supposed to be well-behaved and neat.  It was always very important to make a good impression in public.  At home, life was mostly okay but every now and then, when things went badly at his work or around tax time every year,  Daddy would become very angry.  At these times we kids knew that we had to be perfect or we’d get hit.   I was the youngest and thus the least perfect.  I was also, as Daddy was fond of telling me, his favorite.  He always hit me on the body. Never on the face.  Mom made sure our clothes covered the marks. When he was “over his mad” as my Mom called it, he would come into my bedroom that night and apologize and sometimes even cry.  “I’m sorry honey.” he’d say “I just want you to be perfect because you’re my favorite.”