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.”