I was I was eight years old when my whole world changed. Mother had a baby. Never having been much interested in babies, this one seemed like a waste of time. Life was far better before the baby. Mother was nicer; not constantly carping about being tired. She’d also gotten incredibly lazy, now expecting me to fold towels, dust, and clear my own dishes from the table. I hadn’t minded the first time or two, especially when she thanked me so effusively, but when it became obvious she expected it to be a regular thing, I was disgusted.
Not only that, Mother went on and on about how much things cost now. It made no sense that before the baby, there had always been plenty of money for cowboy boots, the ice cream man, and trips to Grandma’s. Now we were poor. She got her stupid baby and now I got nothing.
Eventually, Connie started playing and I loved her Before too long, Mother got the pathetic mopes again. She got lazier than ever, sat around with her feet up or took to her bed for hours at a time, sometimes even crying a little. In desperation, Daddy even hired a lady to help out. I loved Miss Annie, but she seemed a lot more interested in Connie than me. Mother did nothing but lie around and play with Connie, till she she started sewing. She bragged to her friend one day that she’d hand-made and embroidered eight baby dresses. My jealousy alarm went off.
“Mother, make something for me.” I had no use for dainty embroidered dresses, but surely she could come up with something!
“You’re too bigI can’t handmake anything for you.”
I made a point to be crushed, devastated by her selfishness, going out to pout as long as I could manage it. Fortunately, I had a short attention span and soon got lost in play. The next day, Mother had Marilyn. By this time, I knew babies quickly got cute, so I loved her from the start.