My husband liked to put things through the wall. His fist, my head...


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My husband liked to put things through the wall. His fist, my head...
That makes me remmber a situation with my mother. It was almost 35 years ago in my school vaction, on Friday my mother use to do the big cleaning of the week, as prepration for Shabat. In that wintery Friday I came home ftom were ever I was, with a lot of mud on my shoes and my mother was just finishing washing the floor I ,as a 15 years old teenager do, enterd to the house without any thoughts of the surrounding, directly to the kitchen and of course I left HUGE mud steps on the wet floor, in that moment my and my mother eyes crossed each other, the look that my mother had in her eyes make me turn eraound and run for my life, trough the dor, the second I get out trough it I saw the mop, (that was a big one on a long stic) she was holding in her hands entering trough the dor like a javelin!
I ran away and came back only 6-7 ouer later and that hole stayed for years as a reminder yo me!
My husband liked to put things through the wall. His fist, my head...
He sounds like a weenie.My husband liked to put things through the wall. His fist, my head...
My husband liked to put things through the wall. His fist, my head...
My first husband was like that![]()
I understood it when we had it granny.
of course you did. My apologies for thinking otherwise