7. Dear Kiddo, Take My Hand Into Darkness

Ah, Kiddo, let me take you back to the unforgettable moment when I handed Mom a pair of white thong underwear and got the kind of look usually reserved for discovering a cockroach in your soup. It was a mix of disgust, disbelief, and possibly—just possibly—a spark of premeditated chaos. Because, in hindsight, I now suspect that Mom, in her unique brand of psychological theater, planted the thong. Why? Maybe for kicks, maybe for control, or maybe just because she wanted to see me squirm.