Don`t Forget Your Washing

This story is a classic example of just how toxic and dishonest a Narcissistic Mother

 can be and the effect it has.

Now remember the back story of my Wash Day Blues, the days off school with the twin tub, learning to wash my own clothes from such a young age because of `all them bloody bits` {meaning my dry skin} doing the washing on my day off, mine and anything they needed doing as well until my Father, out of work, eventually took on the job when I left. So my Mother rarely did the washing and even then only with help and in a supervisory role, as in what to wash first {hers} and what not to mix {hers with any mere mortals} And let`s not forget the torturous tale of `12 nappies in The Flat`.

My work mates were curious as to why I had left home at just 18, to fend for myself in a bedsit. When asked what I was doing nice on my day off I would say I was off to the launderette with my washing and then cleaning my room and may be buying a few groceries. They would turn their noses up a bit at how boring it sounded. They all seemed to be from good homes and spent their days off doing fun things with their Mom`s or having lazy days at home being fussed over, cooked and cleaned for. Now how on earth do you begin to explain what my Mother was like or that my Father always sided with her. People always assume its you it must be, because two adults can`t both be bad, they can`t both be wrong either and you well, you`re just a kid, probably dreaming it all up...telling stories......after all when you have a loving home and devoted parents its hard to imagine right... I had though, foolishly tried on occasion, to tell them what it was like there and why I had to leave. My explanation got mixed reviews shall we say.

 So a few weeks after I moved out it was almost home time, we were all on the shop floor having a tidy round just before pulling the doors closed, the music had been turned off and it was quiet other than the soft sound of hangers being shuffled. 

Then Mother drops in, on her way home after a shopping trip, she arrives with an arm full of carrier bags, M & S, Beatties, and BHS, she tells me what shes bought and that shes off to Bingo tonight for `The Link`, so big prizes, she`s clearly on a high, realising the time and off to catch her bus she says a quick goodbye and gets just by the door and swings back around. In her Actress voice, on full volume for everyone`s benefit she the calls back to me "Oh and don`t forget Amanda, bring all your washing home on Sunday and I`ll do it for you....and your sheets too" and with that she sweeps out.

My eyes scan around and they are all staring at me, not a word is said and then everyone carries on tidying. My face is literally beetroot red with humiliation, I feel as if I have LIAR LIAR LIAR scrawled across my forehead. Just then the Deputy Manager strides by jingling the shop keys in her hand, she shoots me a look and says "Honestly Amanda, I think its all in your head" I had no reply, it was all I could do to swallow the tears down, even with my training. I never mention home or them again. Which I guess made me look even more like a fantasist.