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When I was 12 years old I spent the entire summer grounded in my room (that’s another story) when it happened.

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Amid what I thought would be just another extremely boring afternoon my mom flung open my bedroom door.

“Do you have any super glue?” she asked me, her face radiating in laughter.

“In the drawer.” I lazily pointed out. I was feeling alone and defeated and was in no mood for her games.

“Get it for me! Hurry!” she ordered.

I sluggishly rolled my fat ass off the bed and opened the drawer. I handed her the glue.

“Stay right here.” she said, “I’m about to get your father back. It’s going to be really funny.”

With that she walked out of my room carrying the glue. She had her hand over her mouth trying to contain her laughter.

A few minutes went by, then she came to the door of my bedroom and signaled my out with the wave of her hand. I reluctantly followed her into the living room.

My dad was asleep on the couch with his mouth wide open, drooling. My mom slowly climbed on top of him until she was straddling his lap. Then she kissed his neck and pressed her breasts into his face.

“Honey.” she whispered seductively, “Wake up baby, I have a surprise for you.”

My dad started to wake up. What happened next scared the life out of me. My dad screamed. Not a normal scream, this was the scream of someone dying. I will never forget the sound that came bellowing out of his half asleep, still a bit drunk, startled mouth.

“You fucking bitch!” he yelled as he tried to get up but moving was just making it worse. My dad grabbed his junk, fell to the floor and into the fetal position.

I didn’t know it at the time, but my mom had used my superglue to glue my dads penis to his leg. After she waited a few minutes for the glue to dry, she called me out to witness the torture. That’s when she hopped on him in attempt to excite him. Her attempt obviously worked causing my daddy’s baby maker to be torn to shreds.

I don’t really want to discuss my dads private part anymore but I’m sure you get the drift.

It was the longest summer of my life.

5 thoughts on “Talk About Being Stuck

  1. Pingback: Raised by a Narcissist | It's not my fault.

  2. We all remember the commercial where the construction worker hung from a beam he super glued his hard hat to. I’ll never see it quite that way any longer. That’s one hell of a campfire story to tell at a church supper.

  3. Pingback: The Immaculate Deception | It's not my fault.

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