In 6th grade I was obsessed with Harry Potter.
It was also the same year my parents separated.
And Carol had bought me a Harry Potter mug.
But then she decided that it was “the perfect size and shape” to be her daily coffee mug.
And I was no longer allowed to use it.
I loved that mug.
But 12 year old me didn’t ask my mother why she stole my favorite mug from me.
Why she couldn’t buy herself one just like it, so we could match.
12 year old me figured mommy just really liked the mug.
And I was sad, but let it go.
The same as when she gave all my Winnie the pooh stuffed animals to my brother without asking, and the Winnie the pooh vhs to my cousins years earlier that I never saw again. I was used to losing my favorite things.
And years later, as that same Harry Potter mug sat in her cupboard, unused by her or anyone else. I never used it. And I never asked for it back.
Laughs and Lobotomies 