Thank goddess there are JAILS for "fathers" like this one these days.
(Sigh-- had to make "the call" to CPS the other day.  Poor kid, half
starved and strap marks ozzing all over her back & legs.  Why? She hates
peas. They put the GD things in front of her three meals a day for a
week until they were moldy, then shoved the disgusting moldy things down
her throat until she threw up.  Shooting such a "parent" [either gender]
is *my * solution. No trial. No recourse.  Just take 'im out an shoot
'im.)

I have a life-ling aversion to cauliflower because my mother handled my
not eating cauliflower in the same way - only I threw up before it was
mouldy - she might not, in truth have rammed it down my throat when it
was actually mouldy, however, when she rammed it down my throat, it
gagged and threw up and she made me eat it again. Have never been able
to tolerate any version of the stuff in any kind of cooked or raw
disguise.

My father, on the other hand, is dead. He died before I knew him, and I
have
never had anyone in that role to care about. Sometimes I think about it.
Not
often anymore.

All of my fathers are now dead, even the really good ones whom I loved
dearly and still miss.

Laurie glad my kids had a good dad Phoenix




--- Rachel's Little NET2FIDO Gate v 0.9.9.8 Alpha