Control Freak

I have mentioned in the past that I was a very aware young man, much to my parents dismay.  I could see, hear, reason and then understand a great deal far in advance of my years.  One of my many observations revolved around my parents marriage.  All was not well.

Father could tolerate no dust, no disturbance in his life!  So he would hide nickels around the house and then upon returning home, inspect the house to be sure all of the nickels had been accounted for as well the house work done to his satisfaction!  This went so far as to the proper tautness of the blankets on our beds and both my sister and I were inspected every afternoon for having achieved this.  Failure to do so ended with increasingly painful punishments.

I was not allowed to wear tennis shoes and so my shoes had to be inspected every evening as well.  Apparently this one task I excelled in and so by the time I was eight, he had me doing his shoes every evening.  Mandatory spit shine.  Okay I will admit that on occasion I would blow my nose on his shoes.  He never knew the difference and it gave me pleasure not to spit on his shoe but give him a snot shine....

Father was not an native English speaker, mother was, and she was constantly correcting him.  It became a power point for her to hold over him.  Also, she would choose the worse possible foods - things she knew he hated.  Think rutabagas, turnips and parsnips!  I am violently made ill by even the smell of them ... father was merely irritated by them.  It was just one more of many points of contest between them.

And someone amongst father's friends suggested that he should put the shoe on the other foot and completely remove her from her comfort zone.  Oh yeah, that one is going to teach her a lesson, right?