It was fantastic to get Mom off my back. To be able to dress how I wanted, (in limits) to be able to hang with my friends after school.
It was unbelievable to be able to go out on weekends without having to list my friends, the place I intended to go, the time I would return.
I was free. I felt great.
In fact, once, when I came home at midnight, (my curfew was ten) my mother didn’t say a word.
At first I smiled, then realised I was non-existent.
Then my mother told me she was preggers with Brad’s child, and I knew I was no longer her baby girl. I was a third arm pit.