Today, I was asked by Digi if how did I have the talk with my son. I replied I haven’t!
Surprised, You haven’t? I thought you would have jumped at the chance to have the talk with him.
The truth is I don’t know how to approach the subject with him. Sometimes talking to him is like talking to a sixteen or seventeen year old but he is just twelve. I know the talk is long overdue. By the time I was twelve, I had already been having sex for a little while.
Seems I am not the only one who has problems with his parents. As previously stated, I don’t have a relationship with my father. My mother, on the other hand, has always been around. She just seems to pick and choose when she will be a mother.
I grew up without her. I was made ward of state when I was seven. Later, custody of my sister and I was given to my grandmother. My mother was a drug addict. As is, usually, the case with any fiend, her habits were more important than her family. She was still around though. I did grow up in my maternal grandmother’s home, after all. I witnessed so many things, I wish I hadn’t. Some of the destruction caused is still evident here.
