My Mother felt so cleansed of guilt and shame after my post on Friday that she brought me more evidence of my childhood mistreatments that very night.
(That and she’s been cleaning out her basement, but that’s beside the point.)
As it turns out, The Atrocity wasn’t a one-time offense, nor perhaps even as bad as it got. In fact, it is becoming quite apparent that I lived my entire childhood with no peripheral vision at all – like a horse with blinders, I was.
…or at least that’s what I’d title this if it were a piece of art (which it obviously is).
At any rate, at least JC was allowed his dignity.
Well, aside from that Winged Precious Moments Bunny he was so delicately holding.