I thought I was doing a good job. I really did. I made sure my children had the best of everything. I nurtured them at my ample bazongas and even smiled as one child practically gnawed off my right nipple. You treasure moments like that. And, as I raise my 20 year old daughter and my now 12 year old son, I found something out about them that no mother should ever have to learn. I am ready to burst into tears over finding this out and I feel that I am inconsolable at this point. Mothers, you will cringe. Fathers, your balls will shrivel. Even if you don’t have children, you will feel my pain.
My children wipe from back to front.
Now, I know. It’s horrendous. I am ashamed. I feel like less of a mother for them not understanding that you have to wipe from front to back. I don’t know how we got on the conversation, but I will have nightmares about this for years to come. I tried to explain to the girl child that you are loading your urethra up with the bacteria from the vag-gi-gi. And what if some shit were dragged into the mix? What then? She laughed at me and shook her head, accusing me of wanting to know too much. Then, I explained to the boy child that while this practice is not necessarily bad now, one day it will lead to shit sticking to his balls. Hair is not an issue right now, but eventually it will be. My children mocked me and taunted me with their tales of poor wipage.
I have failed. I tried to do right by them, and I have failed.
Please, I beg of you, rally together and explain to my children that the ass and/or vagina must be wiped a certain way, lest they fall into eternal disrepair! I don’t know how I am going to tell my therapist. I may just have to take additional medications now. I have failed. Motherhood as I know it is over. Why?
Because this means that Esther did a better job than I did.
I am a girl who knows how to wipe. I was once proud of that, but now, I feel as though I should wipe incorrectly so that I may suffer the same way my children do. I feel that I should be whipped and hung out publically in the town square while proper wipers stone my weary body. I am no longer worthy of being called “mother”. I have told them to call me “CP” now, because of my transgressions. I don’t know that I will ever recover. The shame is relentless. How does one ever repent? They should burn me in effigy.
The jewish mother guilt is killing me. Oy.