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The little girl became a little bit taller, slender and a little bit pretty.
The family moved to the big city, the Twin Cities and she was happy.
She wanted to be a cheerleader.
She learned to do a flip and became a cheerleader on the A squad.
“You’re not athletic,” her mom told her, “Why Pick You?”
She brought home straight A’s from school.
Her mom said, “Not bad for a girl who’s never home.”
She babysat weekends and summer days and adored the children and families she worked for. Her mother saw her counting the money she had saved and accused her of stealing.
She said she read in the newspaper that teenage girls steal from department stores and sell the items for cash. (So you read a story and that makes it true of me?)
The girl said nothing.
She was chosen Homecoming Queen.
Her mom’s first comment, “Why Pick You? You’re not photogenic!”
The mom didn’t want to go to the crowning ceremony because she told her, “You’ll never win.” Her best girlfriend asked, “Why does she Pick on You? Mom’s don’t do that. Is she jealous?” The blonde girl dared to ask, “Why do you Pick on me and say mean things?”
Her mother quickly replied, “So you’re not conceited.”
Silently the girl thought, “Why did I Pick You?”
She loved to draw and her mom drove her to art lessons and framed a flower she painted and hung it in the living room.
She was on the teen board and modeled at the State Fair.
Her dad’s dad died. She had never seen her father look so sad and defeated. He didn’t say much but what he did was always true. He loved to fish and yet he never told a fisherman’s tale. If he told you he caught a ten pound walleye, believe him.
The girl asked her mom how she felt when her dad died. Her mom said, “I was in high school and I liked all the attention.” Ummmm.
The mother said, “Your father is sexually attracted to you. I know this is true because I read it in a magazine.” The girl knew it was a lie but she said nothing.
Her mother often told her, “I should have raised rabbits instead of you. You’re such a disappointment to me. Why did I Pick You?” She kept repeating.
The girl thought, “I’m sorry. Why Would You, Why Would anyone Pick Me?”
Her mother told her there was no reason to waste money on college for her. She should be a beautician.
She graduated from high school on a Thursday and her mom charged her rent from Monday.
“I don’t want you being a free loader here,” her mother gave the message.
She moved out before the rent was due.
It’s okay the girl repeated, No One Would Pick Me.
Why Pick You.