A Damn Good Slap

 After settling down into a long term relationship with the lad I would eventually marry, the stark contrast between my parents and his became more and more apparent. Despite him being one of 7 children his parents easily found time to be interested in and kept up to speed with all the little details of their children's lives. The highs were celebrated, the lows supported and there was much laughter along the way. No family is ever perfect and I`m not saying this one was either, neither is my own now I am a parent myself but if there is unconditional love then anything else usually sorts itself out one way or the other.

 Over time it became blatantly obvious the vast difference of interest his parents took in his life and increasingly mine, compared to the level of interest I received from my own parents. It became an `in` joke. News was shared and discussed and updates asked for regularly in his home and mine...well we just heard about Mother really and that was it. I was referenced when I was needed for something or found wanting in some way and other than that I could of been speaking another language and they would of hardly noticed.

 And so as I was getting older and questioning more and more how off things were at home, I also began to feel more empowered by the validation and agreeance I picked up from the more normal folk around me. In fact I got so empowered I became very aware and attentive to the lack of awareness and attention given to anything I choose to share when I visited my parents. I even set little tests for them, telling them about something and then referring to it a few weeks on and asking had I mentioned it before and getting blanks looks.

 And so spurred on by my new found insight into `normality` I decided to challenge my Mother. Not the smartest move but we learn from our mistakes when we are young and have not mastered the art of picking our battles. 

 So I drop in and we end up chatting in the sitting room, by chatting I mean listening to her. I try several times to talk about myself and touch on things I`ve mentioned recently but the lights on and no ones home as usual. So I get brave {cocky} and actually tell her that I don`t think she ever listens or really knows anything about me....I get a surprised, blank look, I then ask her about something I bought and told her about, she doesn't remember, I bring up holiday plans but she can`t remember those either. I warm to my subject and ask her where I live, she says the wrong road, I ask her what company I work for, she becomes a little flustered and does her little girl lost voice as she gets that wrong too. My Father is sitting nearby but stays silent. So I say my goodbye`s feeling I that have been proven right about her.

Jump forward to the next time we drop in and there has clearly been an in depth postmortem on my `finding a voice`. My Father`s face is like thunder and she looks stern and yet oddly expectant. I soon realise there has been delayed rage and indignation at the audacity of their daughter in actually daring to point out and indeed trying to entrap Mother into exposing herself as completely disinterested in her only child. The cheek of it !! 
 So we all stand in the kitchen and my Father plays his role as is expected of him and tells me,  "We were absolutely disgusted about the way you spoke to your Mother the other day " {so disgusted he said not a word at the time}  "Askin er all them questions"...Mother nods and agrees, her expression torn between That`s it you tell er Geoff  and Yes, poor wittle me.  " Who do you think you are?"  He warms to his part. "Why if I`d av ad me wits about me {Think that ship`s sailed} I`d av given you a damn good slap up the face"
 I look at the floor and wait for my other half to say something. Silence. I look up at Father and he`s glowering at me while Mother now can barely contain her delight that he has done such a brilliant job of savaging me and avenging her. But best of all I wasn`t alone, my boyfriend is right there in the room and has been no help to me whatsoever, she cannot believe her luck, why its just like old times but better, not just a bully boy Father but a bystander boyfriend too. She smirks her satisfaction at me while I gaze at the floor. All assertiveness dissipated while I take in that, the person who agreed with me time and time again, got me fired up and couldn`t wait to hear what I had said, roaring with laughter when I relayed the story, reported back to his parents that she was as bad as we thought, has now apparently lost the power of speech and is seemingly OK with a threat of violence against me.  And because of the fact all I have ever known, is that the people who should love me either attack me or stand by while I am being attacked, I do not raise an issue with this behaviour instead it is not long before I am engaged to him.