Point

Point/Counterpoint Aug 7, 1996

I Never Wanted You

By Rhonda Foster

You were a mistake, you know. I never planned to have you, and now I'm stuck with you.

You always start bawling when Grandma and I fight, but you're the reason Grandma hates me. She told me I was stupid to have you, and I sure found out that she was right.

How am I supposed to ever find a husband with a kid like you trailing after me? Who wants me now, huh? I'm going to be alone forever because of you. I wish you were 18, so I could kick you out. I'm sick of it all.

Someday I'm taking the Greyhound out of this shit town and leaving it all behind. Then you can try to find someone who wants you and you'll find it's not so easy.

All I do is work, work, work. If I didn't have you to take care of I could take tell that Eddie to shove his short little waitress uniform up his fat ass.

If I didn't have to feed you, my life would be one big vacation. I could actually have a little fun once in a while, and maybe even take a trip somewhere instead of sacrificing my life to you.

Instead, I slave all day and then come home to listen to you whine about how you're cold or sick or lonely. You're always sick with something. And when you're not in my hair you're fighting with the kids across the hall.

You don't appreciate anything. This is my own home, and I can't get any respect.

Why is this place is such a goddamn mess? You've got your toys laying all over the place—cardboard boxes and coffee cups and pop cans everywhere. I'm always tripping over your dirty clothes. What would you do if I sold the damn things? Like that ratty Mr. Sniffles that you drag around.

And then there's the cereal boxes sitting on the table. Can't you ever clean up after you eat?

Why are you so stupid? The school called me, and I had to go in for a conference and they told me I should help you at home with your schoolwork. Your bitch of a teacher comes down on me because you're so dumb.

And why don't you comb your hair? You're such an ugly, skinny kid that I'm embarrassed to take you anywhere. That's why I always leave you at home. You're always bad when we go out, embarrassing me with your screaming and jumping around. Can't you just be quiet for once?

Counterpoint

Mommy, Please Come Home

By Jessy Foster

I love you, Mommy. Come back home, please, please, pretty please. I'll be good, I promise.

I can do better. I'll help you more. I'll be your little helper. I'm sorry I didn't do the dishes and I made a mess. I'll clean everything up and make the whole place really beautiful.

You'll be happy to have me because I'm such a good worker.

I promise to be quiet. I won't bother you anymore. I won't ask you for anything. I'll just stay in my room, and I won't run around in front of the TV anymore when you say you are trying to unwind without my screaming and crying for once.

Please come home. I'll never say nothing again. Pretty please, with sugar on top, come home.

I'm sorry I told the saleslady at the door that you wouldn't be home until tomorrow. She asked me, though. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you in trouble and make that mean woman come to our house.

Don't let them take me away, Mommy.

I know I'm bad. I swear I'll be better, though, and then you'll love me a whole lot. I'll be nice to those men, the one that smells really funny and the one with the hairy arms. And I won't come out of my room anymore when I hear you come home at night and you're laughing and singing and bumping into things. I'll just pretend I'm asleep.

I won't get mad the next day when you say I broke stuff that you did, and I'll even clean it up for you. And if the man from your work calls, I'll answer the phone and say that I'm sick and you are taking me to the emergency hospital room.

Maybe you can marry a daddy, and then I'll come out with a pretty dress on and I'll sing the pony song for him, and he'll say what a pretty and smart and nice girl I am.

And he won't even be angry that you didn't tell him about me before.

We'll be a really happy family and go and live on the beach like on TV.

Don't go away, Mommy. I love you.

On which side of this difficult issue do you stand? We'd like to know. If you agree with Rhonda, vote by calling 1-900-555-1220. If you agree with Jessy, call 1-900-555-1230. Results will be printed in next week's Onion.

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