A White parent supervising on a school trip shouted at me when I was 11.
She refused to treat my bleeding knee, telling me to pull my sock up instead. She said it was my fault for running ahead.
When I got home my Mum had to soak the sock to get it off, causing it to bleed again.
When I told her that I fell over when running ahead, she agreed with the parent-volunteer and said it served me right.
I wish she'd written a 40 page letter instead.
I wish she'd copywrited my name and called me her Wonderful White Daughter.
I wish she'd asked for season tickets and counselling and vacations and private education for me for the next nine years.
But she didn't.
She let that White Irish bitch get away with it.
Which makes me realise my Mum is a White Irish bitch of a mother.
I'm tempted to sue both of them retrospectively.
Especially for my trip to Disneyland.
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Life's hard you know, so strike a pose on a Cadillac
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