Mom loves rubbing soap in my mouth; WHY, Mom? Do I stink?
Or was it because I didn't respond the way she expected... Issue #39
if only i…. had not gone through those horrible mouth-soaping events in my teenage years, maybe things would have turned out differently for me and my Mom. Today, I still shake in horror at the thought of those punishments I received.
You read that right! It has been hard for me to come out and say this about my Mom and what she did growing up in my Teens. When I did something to upset my Mom, she would go to the closest bathroom looking for any used soap bar and then tell me to stick out my tongue. NOW, OLLIE
Rub, Rub, Rub, I could feel it start to foam. It didn’t matter who’s soap it was, what it was used for, or even what flavor. It sucked. I hated her for doing this.
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Washing out the mouth with soap is a traditional form of physical punishment that consists of placing soap, or a similar cleaning agent, inside a person's mouth so that the person will taste it, inducing what most people consider an unpleasant experience. This form of punishment was especially common in the United States and United Kingdom from the late 19th century until the mid-20th century.My mouth was washed with soap if I said or did anything against her wishes or beliefs.
I started to rebel. I felt humiliated and rebelled in many different ways:
I didn’t do my chores,
I didn’t come home when I expected,
I stopped doing homework,
I stopped living the straight and narrow.
I started to smoke dope.
In past Newsletters, I shared that she liked using the belt on me, too—it was a power trip, and she controlled me in every way. So, I started to think of ways to stay away from home.
This was one of the reasons I no longer worked for the family business, NOT MY DECISION INITIALLY. Mom decided I wasn’t worthy of learning and maybe one day sitting in my Father’s chair.
Mom always punished me, dangling the future of the Company against me for anything I did wrong at home.
I always did everything right at work, as I excelled at every position they gave me. It sounds braggadocios, maybe, but it was true.
I recall that in the summer of 1977, I got my friend’s job at my parents' firm. Once again, according to Mom, I did something wrong at home, and I was punished once again.
Her exact response was, “Ollie, you can now go to work with your friends for ZERO pay, and hope that one day you will sit in your Dad’s position or leave now!”
I decided to do the job for a while for zero pay, but it got to me. Honestly, I couldn’t handle seeing friends getting paychecks when I got nothing. I’d had enough.
So I quit!
….ifOnlyi…. short stories are published chronologically and follow my life growing up in California from 4 years old. If you've just found me, the stories will come together when you start reading from….Issue #1